Ace no Ikkoku, Episodes 1 and 3
by ramuchan
Summary: A new star is rising in Japanese tennis; she's sweeping her competition. But is she getting too much love from fans, admirers, and paparazzi? Read & find out! Life sure isn’t boring around the Tôkyô Lawn Tennis Club now that everyone loves Chigusa Kyôko!
1. Episode 1, Part 1: First Serve

**Alternate Rumic World MI-1: Ace **_**no Ikkoku**_

[an offshoot from the **Variations on a "Them"** thread of the "Rumic World Messageboard"]

by **RyogasGirl** & **jalp**

(Not that we _**own**_ these characters! They belong to Takahashi-_sensei_ and whoever she says.

We've just enjoyed finding a few new ways for these people to make things _**interesting**_. . . .)

*==*==*==*==*==*==*==*==*

_Imagine there's no Sôichirô teaching at her high school. Perhaps young Chigusa Kyôko isn't as distracted from her studies. Or maybe she puts her extra time and energy into her tennis._

_She was good in the RRW (Real Rumic World). In this ARW timeline, she's better. Good enough to shine in some local tournaments – to dream of qualifying for the professional tour._

_And then she catches the eye of a certain male pro. . . ._

*==*==*==*==*==*==*==*==*

**Episode #1****: **Everybody Loves Kyôko

**Chapter 1:**

First Serve

It was late. The press room at the Tôkyô Lawn Tennis Club was all but deserted – all but one last reporter. _I need to finish this while the excitement of the day is still fresh in my mind._ And before a night's sleep could convince him the day had been a dream, too.

_A dream and a nightmare both, probably, for her._ He sighed. Sometimes he wished he hadn't let his father find him a job as a journalist. _I'd like to help her . . . but I can only do it if I can stay a disinterested observer – if I can help from the sidelines._

Which took him right back to the column. _It tells the basic story, I guess – but how do I __**end**_ _it? Well, let's take one more look from the start._ He pushed a few keys on his brand-new _wa-puro_, and brought the cursor back up to the title and the lead.

**This Morning, Every Morning**

**Today's Column: Tennis – The Sideline Shot**

(Tôkyô) — The results are in, and it's official. Everybody loves Kyôko.

And we hardly know her yet.

Chigusa Kyôko seems to have popped up overnight, overtaking all rivals in Japanese women's tennis. Her sudden rise has prompted much speculation as to her origins – all the more so since she is so guarded about her private life, even as she is on the verge of becoming a household name.

Today was Chigusa-_senshu_'s toughest test yet. But, as it turned out, the hardest part wasn't during the championship match. . . .

*==*==*==*==*==*==*==*==*

"It's a beautiful day here at the prestigious Tôkyô Lawn Tennis Club's annual JAWS mixed-doubles tournament. All of the proceeds from today's tickets go towards finding new homes for lost or strayed animals throughout Japan." The announcer's enthusiasm turned up one more notch as his voice came clearly over the loudspeaker. "And what a wonderful turnout we have for our championship match! We are witnesses to the phenomenon that is Chigusa Kyôko. For months now, fans across Japan have come to admire this woman who seems to be unbeatable. Her record so far is untarnished. But will it remain so?"

The announcer paused for breath, the better to continue his breathless introduction. "And to add to the excitement, the luck of the draw in partners and brackets has brought us a championship face-off many had hoped for. Across the net from Chigusa-_senshu_ today is her strongest opponent yet – Mitaka Shun. Mitaka-_senshu_ is paired with veteran Inoue Etsuko; Chigusa-_senshu_'s partner is Tsuchihashi Toshihisa. {**fn1}** But this first meeting between the two young stars should definitely be a match to remember!"

The sellout crowd was no less enthusiastic. No mere polite applause for these players as they came out of their locker rooms – actual cheers broke out. The loudest, of course, were for Chigusa-_senshu_ . . . with a few bold voices even hollering for "**Kyôko-**_**san**_**!**" As she sat and chatted with her partner on the other side of the umpire's chair, Mitaka couldn't help but look her over.

She was reclusive . . . or as reclusive as a professional athlete could be. Other tennis players would stay after a match – in front of the cameras – and talk about their game in great detail. Kyôko would give a simple "I think it went well today, but I'm always trying to improve" – and move on. It may have been a conceited answer for anyone else in her undefeated position, but she had a way of saying it which made her seem humble and determined.

Almost from the first time he'd seen Chigusa-_senshu_ play, Mitaka was fascinated by her. _Now here I am, about to face her._ He shook himself slightly. _I'd better ask Etsuko how __**she**_ _thinks we should be playing this match._ He knew Inoue-_senshu_ well from the Tour – and the veteran was no stranger to Chigusa-_senshu_'s game. But she'd barely managed to hold some of her own service games in either of their previous matches. The score last month had been 6-0, 6-1.

She seemed to be remembering that defeat as she stared down at the other team. _I'll bet it's not Toshihisa who's got her that upset_, Shun thought. But it was Tsuchihashi-_senshu_ who noticed the glare and started a bit. Kyôko remained unaware that their female opponent was even looking their way.

_Let's focus on winning this match now, Etsuko-_san. "She's undefeated, not undefeatable." Mitaka said, catching his partner's attention.

"Oh! Sorry," Etsuko began. Then she added, "But that's easy for you to say – you haven't played her . . ."

"I didn't say she wasn't good, but no one's impenetrable." And Shun smiled – in the bright, disarming way so characteristic of him . . . and his family.

"_Sasuga_ Mitaka! I swear," Etsuko chuckled, borrowing some of his confidence, "that smile should be outlawed."

"Don't worry – I've got a license for it," he assured her.

Everything about Shun was assured. It was rare that he walked onto a tennis court as anything but the favorite to win – the match and the crowds. _But this seems to be one of those days._ Even so, his confidence never waned. _No one's impenetrable_, he reminded himself. His practiced stride on to the court was sure and fearless, with a turn every few steps to wave and smile at the throng of women cheering for the handsome tennis pro.

"First to serve: Tsuchihashi-Chigusa," called out the umpire. The ballgirl ran up to Tsuchihashi – until he stopped her, then waved her on with his racket, saying: "I think everyone would like to see my partner serve first." To the interested murmurs and chuckles of the audience, the announcer almost gleefully corrected the announcement: "First to serve: **Chigusa**-Tsuchihashi!"

Kyôko too had been caught a little off guard by her partner's deference. But she accepted the pair of balls with thanks, then stood at the corner of the court momentarily, looking across at this player who was supposed to be her rival. _So – we're facing each other right away, then._

Shun's stance was perfect: legs apart, knees slightly bent, a gentle lean towards the net with a firm, yet yielding grip on his racket. She had never played him before, so she had been looking forward to this game for months. The anticipation of playing against the top star of Japanese professional tennis had given her an extra incentive to win during this tournament.

Shun too felt the anticipation he'd had for this game come to a head. This mysterious, talented woman was his Everest: he had to overcome her. He began to wonder as Kyôko seemed to be taking her time considering her first serve. _I'm not making her nervous, am I?_ Mitaka realized suddenly. He smiled with his trademark glint at his opponent, hoping to reassure her.

_He's smiling at me? Is he that confident?_ Kyôko became even more determined. _He won't win as easily as he thinks_. With practiced ease, she gently tossed the ball into the air and sent it flying across the net, catching Mitaka leaning too far to his right. He tried to reverse his motion and reach for the ball – but it bounced neatly on the line of the service court, grazed the tip of his racket, and bounced along toward the corner of the stands.

"Fifteen-love," the umpire called out to a cheering crowd. Mitaka looked back across to Kyôko – who now had a smile of her own. _Okay, not as easy as you look_, he noted. _But I guess I knew that._ And he got quick confirmation as her next serve went to the same spot on the other side of the court – too fast and too delicately placed for Etsuko to even touch.

"Thirty-love." The call could barely be heard over the crowd – however, Mitaka heard it loud and clear. It was his turn to receive again, but he could feel his confidence returning.

_Hmm – this time you're coming down the middle, right?_ Yes! There it was, again very well positioned . . . but this time, so was Mitaka. He got a good rip at it – a solid forehand smash, fast and low, right at Tsuchihashi – who got his racket in the way of the ball, but not solidly enough to keep it from angling into the net.

"Thirty-fifteen," The umpire announced in his unbiased, monotone voice.

_That's better_, Shun thought. But as he came forward to the net and exchanged satisfied and relieved smiles with Etsuko, he considered the crowd's reactions so far. _Trouble._

Kyôko's fans seemed to hold their breaths simultaneously each time the ball left her racket to find its place at the other end of the court. There was an ease about her that made her seem so comfortable, so at home on the court. Kyôko might be shy and reluctant to speak in front of the cameras for the reporters . . . but she spoke loud and clear through her swings. She drew people into the game so easily. Watching Kyôko was like watching your sister play – you wanted her to win.

*==*==*==*==*==*==*==*==*

No one can deny that baseball is Japan's national pastime (go Hanshin Tigers!), and tennis is often overlooked. However, attendance and ratings have nearly doubled since Chigusa-_senshu_ has taken to the court – and the Tour obviously loves that.

Perhaps it is her graceful serve or her tireless spirit which has enthralled her fans. Or maybe it's the feeling they get watching her play . . . a feeling that she really is the same polite, demure young woman in real life as she is during a match. That she's someone they could meet in their daily lives, welcome into their homes.

Even the fact that we know so little about her leaves more room for us to imagine the rest – to imagine Chigusa Kyôko as a close friend.

*==*==*==*==*==*==*==*==*

_Imagine finding out the new person in my apartment building is a famous tennis player! . . . it's nice to meet you, Chigusa-_senshu _. . . really? I can? . . . well, that's true, we are going to be neighbors – so . . . okay, Kyôko-_san _. . ._ _**oh**_ – **sorry, ma'am!** . . . Great. Concentrate, _baka_! . . . no, **no**, sir, I didn't mean _you!_ . . .

These daydreams were getting worse, and it didn't help that she was the focus of all the fans' attentions. Yet, the crowd was also good, in its own way. The intensity of his devotion seemed to be masked by the fervor of the multitude of her fans. With the excitement surrounding him, he found it difficult to remain focused on his current task. _Don't spill the pitcher or you'll lose another job and prove you're as unreliable as they say you are. Still, _he felt his eyes moving on their own, _I feel like she needs me to watch her. _Ganbatte_, Chigusa-senshu..._

*==*==*==*==*==*==*==*==*

"Game, Tsuchihashi-Chigusa." "Chigusa-Tsuchihashi!" someone yelled from the cheap seats, and the rest of the audience laughed. But the umpire went on, unfazed. "They win the first set, six games to two." The stands, however, exploded in cheers. _All that for one set?_ thought Shun as the teams switched ends. He snuck a quick glance at Kyôko-_san_ as they passed each other. _Huh – she seems unsettled, too._

Kyôko caught herself thinking about the intensity of the applause, and frowned to herself. _Maybe my nerves are getting to me._ As she settled in at the baseline to start the second set, she looked across the net again. Mitaka seemed as poised as ever. _How does he do that? Maybe I should take a lesson from him on it._ She tried to concentrate on the next serve, but the toss and her swing were both way out of her normal rhythm, and she knew the ball was heading wide. In fact, it passed her partner on the wrong side, hit the post at the end of the net, and took a crazy bounce back in her general direction.

Toshihisa had spun around in an effort to track the errant serve, and ended up facing her. "Chigusa-_senshu_?" he called, loud enough to pull Kyôko from her thoughts.

"_Hai!_" Kyôko barked back a reply. She sounded much harsher than she had meant to, surprising herself as well as her partner. She refocused, and whacked the loose ball off the court with a hard backhand swipe.

"Ha-ha-ha, anyone else think that backslap was meant for Toshihisa?" the announcer called out suddenly. Scattered snickers among the crowd went unnoticed by the players as the second serve led into a long volley. Finally, Mitaka caught the ball for a perfect return, driving it past both defenders.

"Love-fifteen," the umpire announced, much to the dismay of Kyôko's fans.

"You okay?" Toshihisa called out, just loud enough for Kyôko to hear.

"Yes, thank you." Kyôko steadied her resolve as she took the ball to serve again. _I'm not giving them another point._ She deftly aimed the ball for an open point at the far right. When it left the racket, it looked like it couldn't possibly be in . . . but her special skill with spin and touch placed the serve right on the line again – unreachably far up the line – where it hit the ground twice and almost three times before anybody could reach it.

"Fifteen-all." And the crowd jumped up in unison. _This is something I should be used to by now,_ Kyôko thought, getting through the ovation with a smile to her fans and a small wave.

Mitaka marveled at the woman across the court. He'd seen her on TV on several occasions, pulling off great shots like this – and he'd heard the ovations she got – but he'd never seen how she reacted before. After all this time, she still seemed a bit uncomfortable with it all.

_Not that it's slowing her down much. . . ._

*==*==*==*==*==*==*==*==*

* * *

_And so begins this alternate Rumic World, one where Ky__ô__ko never married, but pursued a career in tennis. She is quite adept at the sport, but how will she fare off the court? Read on to discover how far she'll go by the end of our story – and who'll be there with her. And please write a review to let us know how our story compares to Takahashi-_sensei_'s__ original – though we are both aware it could never come close to hers._

**{fn1}**_ – _Inoue Etsuko and Tsuchihashi Toshihisa are names of actual Japanese professional tennis players from the 1980s, the time when Maison _Ikkoku_ was set.


	2. Episode 1, Part 2: Sideline Players

**Alternate Rumic World MI-1: Ace **_**no Ikkoku**_

[an offshoot from the **Variations on a "Them"** thread of the "Rumic World Messageboard"]

by **RyogasGirl** & **jalp**

(Not that we _**own**_ these characters! They belong to Takahashi-_sensei_ and whoever she says.

We've just enjoyed finding a few new ways for these people to make things _**interesting**_. . . .)

*==*==*==*==*==*==*==*==*

_Imagine there's no Sôichirô teaching at her high school. Perhaps young Chigusa Kyôko isn't as distracted from her studies. Or maybe she puts her extra time and energy into her tennis._

_She was good in the RRW (Real Rumic World). In this ARW timeline, she's better. Good enough to shine in some local tournaments – to dream of qualifying for the professional tour._

_And then she catches the eye of a certain male pro. . . ._

*==*==*==*==*==*==*==*==*

**Episode #1****: **Everybody Loves Kyôko

**Chapter 2:**

Sideline Players

While most of the crowd was engaged in the intensity of the game, a calm, relaxed figure lazily sipped on a large glass of warm _sake_. The redhead was a constant presence at every one of Mitaka's matches, catching stares for more than her vibrant locks.

Roppongi Akemi was a model for the biggest names in fashion in Tôkyô. She was well-known for her long legs, her flirtatious nature, and her personal and perpetual "endorsement" of Yume _sake_. Actually, Akemi was broad-minded enough to accept just about any _sake_ at the right temperature for the weather. But at this tournament, she was sure to ask for her favorite brand – and goodness knows her current host could afford it.

As the game intensified before her, she let out an audible yawn.

"You're not enjoying the game?" Shun's uncle Yentarô **{fn2}** asked her. "I think Shun's in good form today."

"How can anyone watch the whole thing? I'm getting dizzy." She tipped her glass again for another swig.

"Are you sure it's the game?" her agent sighed.

"Hey, don't be such a wet blanket." Akemi poured a large glass for him and another for Yentarô. Glasses much too big for someone not used to that much alcohol. But her own was hardly a diminutive "woman-sized" cup, and she filled that just as full.

"You have a shoot this afternoon." The agent took the cup, but placed it on a table. "And we don't want to have to reschedule . . . again."

"Yes, Master," Akemi said with a mock bow before stretching back on her lounge chair, trying to get more sun. "It's not my fault that photographer didn't know how to have fun."

"You started dancing with the tripod and broke it." Her "master" discreetly moved the _sake_ away from her. "And I wish you'd stop calling me that."

"You're no fun – all you do these days is remember things," she pouted. "So remind me: why do I keep you around, anyway?"

"Because I know you and your business too well, Akemi-_san_," he answered with some heat. "You couldn't be here relaxing the way you enjoy so much if I didn't talk you into going here and there – and over there – to do a little work occasionally."

"All work and no play makes Chachi a dull boy," she countered, a bit unsteadily.

The elder Mitaka decided it was time for him to intervene. "You're so lovely, Roppongi-_san_, I'd hate to think the camera would pick up anything but your unadulterated beauty. Could I offer you tea instead?"

"Tea? You can't expect me to watch this boring thing without liquor," Akemi whined.

Yentarô decided it was time; he'd need his strongest weapon to coax the _sake_ from the star. "Just until after the shoot, then it's my treat. We'll have a real party," he smiled at her.

"Sayyy, did anybody ever tell you you have your nephew's teeth?" Akemi grinned back at him. "A party, you say? I'll hold you to that, now." She handed over the bottle with a dramatic gesture, then smiled again. "Don't waste it, have some."

Yentarô took the _sake_ and had a small sip from an overlooked _o-choko_, a cup much too small for the model. He wanted to keep her happy – and sober; Shun's reputation hinged on it. _For now, at least,_ he corrected himself silently. While Akemi had been good for his nephew's image at first, her extravagant nature had been proving harmful recently.

"C'mon, drink up, you still have half a bottle." She laughed boisterously.

"We'll save the rest for the party, Akemi-_san_." Yentarô kept his smile at full power.

"What a drag. . . ." Akemi resumed her sunbathing.

"You really think they'll have tea on a day like this?" the agent asked as he got up to go ask.

"I'm their biggest financial backer – they'll find you tea," Yentarô laughed. "Oh, and tell them I need the conference room for a party after the reporters leave."

"After my shoot, _ne_, Master?" Akemi smiled. He half-nodded, half-sighed in relief and continued out the door of the private box. As he closed it behind him, he thought, _Maybe, for once, she can get through a shoot without incident._

Looking around, he saw a young man in an usher's vest leaning on the fence to the court. He was leaning in so far, so hard, that there were chain-link shaped red marks on his arms.

"Oi, usher." No response. He moved closer. "Usher . . . usher!"

Finally, the agent reached the young man's side and put a hand on his shoulder. _**That**_ got a reaction. The usher jumped up, spinning around quickly with an embarrassed look on his face, like he'd been caught doing something wrong. "Oh, um, sorry, sir – did you need something, sir?"

"Tea. I need tea."

_Why do __**I**_ _get the oddball requests?_ Godai grumbled to himself. _And why __**now**__, right in the middle of Kyôko-_san'_s match?!_ "Well, we don't really have hot tea on such a hot day," he explained. "We have some barley tea – it's chilled."

"Surely you can do better than that, young man. You've been here for awhile now, haven't you? What's your name?"

"Godai Yûsaku, sir." _Geez, he's asking my name, that's never good_.

"And I am Chachi Masutarô," **{fn2}** the agent said. When that failed to register, he moved on with only a slight hitch and a mental sigh – _kids today; no memories, no respect for anyone but the top stars right this moment_ – to plan B.

"I'm the agent for Roppongi Akemi-_san_. Do you know who Roppongi-_san_ is, at least, Godai-_kun_?"

He did. He gaped. "Th-the Fabulous Akemi?"

"That's right, Godai-_kun_. I'm the Fabulous Akemi's agent, and she's Mitaka-_senshu_'s girlfriend and a special guest of his uncle, Mitaka Yentarô, the president of Kirakira Sports." He turned to head back toward the stands, hoping the young man would use the pause to realize how impressed he should be. "Now, I'm sure your manager knows where you can find her some tea. We'll be in the VIP box. Oh, and tell the manager Mitaka-_shachô_ needs the conference room after all the press people leave. He'll pay for it later."

"Yes, sir." Godai turned toward the clubhouse, annoyed. Not so much because he'd been talked down to – again! – but because he'd been pulled away from the match. _Kyôko-_san _is out there now, hitting perfect returns and graceful serves._ Even though he was working at the club where she practiced and played, somehow he felt even farther away from her than when he could only watch her on TV. _Well, _Godai thought, _at least I know that idiot Mitaka has a girlfriend. The way he was looking at Kyôko-_san_, I thought he was interested._ He sighed. _Not that knowing that gives me any more of a chance._

Meanwhile, having passed on the orders of tea and party space, Masutarô returned to the VIP box. He was greatly relieved to see that Yentarô had managed to keep the bottle of _sake_ out of his client's reach while he'd been gone. With nothing else to occupy her, Akemi was actually watching Shun play.

"He sure is cute in that uniform, _ne_, Mitaka-_san_?" Akemi grinned.

"Heh, well, I'm not sure I'm a good judge of that, but I've heard he takes after me, so I'll have to agree that he's quite handsome." And Akemi and Yentarô laughed together – loudly.

"8-6, Mitaka-Inoue. They win the tie-breaker and the second set," came the call over the loudspeaker. "Chigusa to serve to open the third and final set."

"I guess he really is pretty good at tennis, too; he scored on that girl, Kyôko what's-her-name," Akemi noticed. Then she seemed to lose interest in the match itself again, as another idea caught her attention. "You know, this place must be raking it in with her here."

"Well, it is the best turnout I've seen in years – that girl's golden. I just wish it wasn't a charity invitational," Yentarô said, letting his tone suggest a little wistfulness. "Still, that just means there's more profit to be made in the form of goodwill." And he and the gorgeous star shared another laugh at the thought – while her agent managed an uncertain smile of his own.

Meanwhile, the match was into its final set and heating up even more. And the hottest exchanges, the quickest volleys, the best break chances, the key rallies and recoveries always seemed to come down to Shun and Kyôko.

For Kyôko, Mitaka-_senshu_ was proving to be the hardest opponent she had faced. The power of his shots and the force of his personality were pressing her as never before. _I can't make any mistakes now – can't lower my guard – or he'll break through._

Coincidentally, Shun felt the same about her. He'd won some points off Chigusa-_senshu_ . . . but she'd refocused, adjusted her play, stretched her range even farther. _And the upshot of it all is that I still haven't broken her serve yet._ He was beginning to feel that, somehow, this was one time he was wrong. _She may just __**be**_ _impenetrable._

*==*==*==*==*==*==*==*==*

Of course, there is also the little matter of Chigusa-_senshu_'s astounding record. 23-0 in singles matches since turning pro, despite tougher and tougher competition. At the recent Echigo-Yuzawa Invitational, even some of the nation's top women players found it hard to hit a shot she couldn't reach and return – and all but impossible to break her service. She only lost five games in all four rounds on her way to the title.

So when the mixed-doubles JAWS tournament invited Chigusa-_senshu_ to play, some thought the Tour was trying to slow her down. Others thought her acceptance meant she wanted to test herself against men as well as women.

But as it turns out, she had another reason for attending: she's an animal lover herself. . . .

*==*==*==*==*==*==*==*==*

Godai was finding it difficult to track down his manager in the crowd at the club. Of course, the kitchen staff had told him he'd have to find tea somewhere else, and he was beginning to feel like he was on a fool's errand. _Why am I still even looking? Maybe I can't get away with telling Mitaka-_shachô _we're out of tea – but I __**could**_ _tell that "master agent" guy . . . and then I could go back to watching the match. Kyôko-_san _looked . . . amazing out there today,_ he mused, absentmindedly letting his feet carry him where they might.

Lost in thought – or perhaps in daydreams – Godai didn't notice a large, white dog straining against his leash. If he had noticed, he would have understood exactly what the dog was struggling to get away from. As usual, a couple of club employees were enjoying a mid-game drink or two . . . or ten. A tall, odd-looking man was dancing around, joined by a stout middle-aged woman holding white fans with the Japanese rising sun in the middle. They were such a fixture at the matches by now that Godai had tuned them out.

He was nearly at the clubhouse when he heard, "Hey, come back!" – just as he was knocked to the ground by a large mound of fur.

"_Gomen nasai_, Godai _o-nii-chan_." The boy pulled on the dog's leash desperately. "Hey! Get offa him!" The dog's only answer was a loud _***Bau!***_ right in Godai's ear and an even faster-wagging tail.

"Kentarô, you said you could hold him." A stout middle-aged woman lazily walked over, beer still in hand. She seemed genuinely amused. "Heh-heh, I guess he likes you, Gofer-_kun_."

"Who cares if he likes me, Ichinose-_san_?! Get your dog off, I gotta work!" Godai struggled under the squirming dog.

"That is not our dog," the man declared, his precise speech a bit muddled by slightly slurred pronunciation. "We're just watching him for someone," he added, taking another sip of his beer.

"Well?? Are you going to help, _kaa-chan_?" Kentarô was still struggling with the dog who could have been twice his size. "At least put down the beer."

"Naw, Godai-_kun_ looks like he can get up. _Ne_, Yotsuya-_san_, don't you think he looks like he can do it?" she chuckled.

"Ah, the epic struggle of man versus beast." Yotsuya knelt down to get a better look. "So far, I would have to say man is not putting up much of a fight."

"You two are useless," Godai mumbled through clenched teeth, finally rolling the dog off of him and standing up. How this woman ever became Kyôko-_san_'s matron was a mystery to him. She did little but lounge outside the locker rooms and drink during the games. As for Yotsuya-_san_ . . . wait, what _**did**_ Yotsuya-_san_ do around here?

"See, I knew you could." Ichinose-_san_ smiled, taking the leash and going back to her chair, the dog sauntering close behind.

"The winner, by a well-timed _utchari_, Godai-_zeki!_" Yotsuya announced. With a joint "_Kanpai!_" the two cheered Godai's victory.

Godai grimaced at the prospect of going in to see his boss with paw marks on his vest, dirt on his back, and thoroughly mussed hair. He tried in vain to brush himself off while rushing to the clubhouse. Still focused on his disheveled appearance, he almost ran into a woman walking by.

"Yûsaku-_san!_" It was Kozue, his . . . well, it was complicated, but he'd decided that "girlfriend" was the easiest term to use. Somehow, they had just become a couple without Godai realizing it. She was the one who'd put his name in for the job, so he really couldn't complain. Her usually cheerful face looked absolutely horrified. "What happened?"

Before he could answer, she pulled him into the employee's lounge and started fixing his hair with a comb from her purse. She then gave him a spare vest from the closet. It was old, but clean. That was Kozue – dependable, adoring, and incredibly kind. _Yeah, can't complain_, he smiled. Even Godai couldn't understand why it was so hard for him to give her his heart. But that train of thought would have to wait for another time.

"There – that's better!" she said, swatting a speck of dust off his shoulder with one hand.

"I don't know how I can thank you enough, Kozue-_chan_," Godai confessed.

She stepped back half a pace to look him over – then, with a satisfied smile restored to her face and to the tone of her voice, she told him, "Just don't get _**that**_ vest dirty, too." And then she giggled and added, "Oh, and remember you're coming over for dinner next week!"

"_Hai._"

*==*==*==*==*==*==*==*==*

* * *

_Service to you, good reader. Read on to find out who will win this opening match. (And whos playing for bigger stakes.) Then tell __**us**__ the score, please – with a review._

**{fn2}** – Mitaka's uncle never had a first name in the _manga_ and the Master of Chacha-maru never had a real name, so we gave them names in our alternate storyline.

We decided that the Master's "real" name was an interesting mixture of two names. His backstory may be explained in more detail later on in the story. In short, he was a fledgling actor in Japan and his first name was Masutarô. He decided that he should have a younger, edgier name and added "Chachi" from "Happy Days" fame. After meeting with only limited success in a few acting gigs, he decided he had a better head for business than performing. He discovered Akemi – and one of the first jobs he secured for her was in a commercial where she was dressed like Barbara Eden in "I Dream of Jeannie". Ever since that commercial, she's called him "Master", along with anyone else who happened to know the joke.

As for Shun's uncle, his involvement with banking and money in general suggested "Yen" to us. And his efforts to find a mate for his nephew in the original series (more successful than Mrs. Ichinose's for Kyôko!) made us think of Yenta the matchmaker from "Fiddler on the Roof". But he's definitely male – so what better name ending than "tarô" again? Hence, Yentarô. . . .


	3. Episode 1, Part 3: Quite A Racket

**Alternate Rumic World MI-1: Ace **_**no Ikkoku**_

[an offshoot from the **Variations on a "Them"** thread of the "Rumic World Messageboard"]

by **RyogasGirl** & **jalp**

(Not that we _**own**_ these characters! They belong to Takahashi-_sensei_ and whoever she says.

We've just enjoyed finding a few new ways for these people to make things _**interesting**_. . . .)

*==*==*==*==*==*==*==*==*

_Imagine there's no Sôichirô teaching at her high school. Perhaps young Chigusa Kyôko isn't as distracted from her studies. Or maybe she puts her extra time and energy into her tennis._

_She was good in the RRW (Real Rumic World). In this ARW timeline, she's better. Good enough to shine in some local tournaments – to dream of qualifying for the professional tour._

_And then she catches the eye of a certain male pro. . . ._

*==*==*==*==*==*==*==*==*

**Episode #1****: **Everybody Loves Kyôko

**Chapter 3:**

Quite a Racket

Even her opponents love Kyôko. In fact, after the match, Chigusa-_senshu_ made another conquest – when one of her opponents, Japan's crown prince of tennis, Shun Mitaka, proposed teaming up for the rest of the doubles season.

The reporter shook his head. _I should rewrite that._ Maybe some of the crudeness of a few of the national tabloid reporters on the tennis beat these days was rubbing off on him. An occasional pun might be okay, but _double-entendres_ weren't his style. _Besides, it feels like it's going against the grain of the rest of the column._

Still, that post-championship press conference had been quite a sight to see. . . .

*==*==*==*==*==*==*==*==*

The match had moved quickly, with points adding up on both sides. Each pair had won one set. Now on their last set, the score was 4-5 with Kyôko and Toshihisa in the lead. On top of that, they had managed to get a break point.

Godai had missed most of it trying to find tea. _Which Akemi-_san _probably doesn't want anymore anyway._ He rushed back to the field to see Mitaka with the ball now in his hand, now bouncing it off the court – up and down – considering his next play.

_This will decide it – I feel it_, Shun thought. This was his last chance to climb his Mount Everest. Sure, Etsuko and Toshihisa were there hitting returns and serves same as they, but the real competition was between Kyôko and Shun. Neither one gave a hint of waning confidence to the other. Though she was hot and sweat poured down her face and chest, Kyôko remained focused, watching Mitaka's momentary pause intensely.

Finally, he threw the ball into the air and felt the familiar impact on the racket. Time slowed as the ball sailed over the net in a sweeping arc. The serve was headed right where he wanted it to. But Kyôko had guessed correctly that he would go wide rather than down the middle; she got a full backhand stroke on the serve and hit a screamer down the line past Etsuko before the veteran could react.

Mitaka had a perfect view of the ball as it bounced just inside the far alley. _I can catch it!_ He reached out with his forehand – full extension, with just the slightest cocking of his wrist. It was a sure thing – one of his trademarks on the court. He'd won several matches this way, with returns that must have looked impossible to anyone who wasn't right on the spot. He could hear some of his fans already squealing with delighted anticipation . . .

But this time, the spin on the ball carried it a few inches farther from Shun. He reached it a moment too late to get the heart of his racket on the shot; instead, the ball glanced off the frame and zipped sideways off the court and into the stands – a souvenir for some lucky fan.

"Game, set, match, and championship to Chigusa and Tsuchihashi, 6-2, 6-7, 6-4." The umpire was as distant as always – but the crowd stood, cheering their beloved Kyôko-_san_ who'd downed yet another rival. She remained calm and collected – thanking Toshihisa on their way up to the net, then bowing to Mitaka and Inoue and shaking hands with them. As they all headed off the court and towards the locker rooms, she turned back to the still-roaring audience with a wave of her racket . . .

. . . and a smile which may not have glittered like Mitaka's, but which turned out just as bright – because it lit up her whole face. And that lit up the crowd yet again. They rose to their feet and cheered as one.

This was a deep blow. He didn't want to show it, but Mitaka felt this loss. Still, he walked up to the net, bowed and congratulated his rival with a quick, somewhat dimmer smile. He had fallen – and so close to the peak, too. But the climb was far from over. If anything, the loss made him more determined to learn as much as he could about the woman behind the win. He knew this might be the only moment he would have to speak with her alone today.

"Chigusa-_senshu_, before you go –"

"Hmm?" Kyôko turned back to him while their partners continued on to the locker rooms. She was unstoppable, beautiful – and he was desperate to know more about her. Now looking at her only inches away, he was completely taken by her subtle elegance, even in her post-game state.

"Your game is quite impressive. I must admit I had been looking forward to this match for some time." Mitaka smiled, despite his defeat.

"You know, I think, that this was my closest match yet. I hope you believe me when I say that it could have gone either way." Kyôko was glad he was not so self-conscious that he couldn't take defeat gracefully.

"Perhaps, though I think the best player won," Mitaka began. "Speaking of which . . ."

"They're looking all over for you, Kyôko-_san_." The interrupter was Ichinose-_san_, strolling from the court into the hallway between them. "You knew there would be a press conference if you won . . . or if you didn't."

"Yes, I suppose so, bu – Wait! Where's Sôichirô-_san_?" Suddenly, Chigusa-_senshu_ went from rueful contemplation of a distasteful duty to concerned alarm.

"Sôichirô-_san_?" Alarms were going off in Mitaka's mind, too. _She has a boyfriend? Well, we'll see about th–_

"Yes, my dog, Sôichirô-_san_. You were watching him, Ichinose-_san_." Kyôko didn't notice Mitaka's moment of frozen panic behind her, or his subsequent relief.

"My son Kentarô is with him, so we can go to the press conference." Ichinose grabbed Kyôko's hand to pull her away.

_Hey, _baka_, she's going away!_ The realization snapped Mitaka far enough back to say, "I'll see you there. Thanks for a great game." He flashed a grin and turned to head for the showers. But –

"One more thing . . ." Ichinose interjected. "Paparazzi. We caught them taking pictures of you and loverboy here. He got away, though."

"Ichinose-_san!_ That's not what this is at all." Kyôko retorted before Mitaka had a chance to.

"We weren't even talking for five minutes!" Mitaka knew something about the risks of being photographed – had known even before he'd met Akemi. Still, he couldn't believe how quickly the paparazzi had pounced on the fact that he and Chigusa-_senshu_ had dared to have an innocent conversation.

"It doesn't matter if it's true; that's what the tabloids are going to say tomorrow." Ichinose said matter-of-factly.

"This is all my fault, Chigusa-_senshu_," Mitaka came back, apologetic. "May I escort you to the conference?"

"You've done enough, loverboy." Ichinose continued to try to get her charge out of the common area.

"Ichinose-_san!_" Kyôko put a bit of rebuke into her tone. "Still," she admitted, turning to Mitaka-_senshu_, "she's probably right. If we arrive together, it will only make things worse."

Mitaka couldn't disagree, so he reluctantly left Kyôko-_san_ in the – he hoped – competent hands of her matron.

*==*==*==*==*==*==*==*==*

_Somehow, Godai found himself standing next to his favorite athlete. And somewhere he'd found the courage to speak to her. "At the end of the match, when everyone in the stands was cheering, you smiled and waved right at me. How did you pick me out of the crowd?" _

"_I don't know exactly," she answered with her usual charming honesty. "I didn't even know your name, and yet I sensed that you were someone I could depend on to help me when I needed it." _

"_Of course I am, Chigusa-senshu." His arm around her shoulder, he steered her away from two photographers, rebuffing a third with his other hand. _

"_Please, call me Kyôko-san. It's the least I can do after all you've done for me today." Her gratitude was evident in her tone and on her face, gazing up into his. _

"_Not at all, not at all, Kyôko-san. If ever there is anything else I can do for you – anything your heart desires. . . ." _

"_Well . . . now that you mention it . . . there is one thing. . . ." She leaned in closer, yet shyly, not sure if she trusted herself to ask._

"_Yes? What is it?"_

_And the girl of his dreams responded . . ._

"You wouldn't have any . . . _**lemon**_ . . . to go with this tea you brought me, would you?"

_Huh?_ Something in Godai realized that Chigusa-_senshu_'s voice would never sound that much like Akemi's, and roused him from his daydream.

"I said, you wouldn't have any lemon on you, would you?" the star repeated. Then she snickered, "Looks like you got a bit of the tea on you already, eh?"

"Hey! It was all I could do to keep from spilling the whole cup when the crowd went crazy there!" he protested. _At least I finally found some – from the caterers who'd already come in to set up for Mitaka-_shachô'_s post-tournament party._ The big man had gone to polish off the last details of preparations with the club manager. _And that agent guy went to touch base with the sparkling idiot about that press conference coming up._ Which left him to be the one standing around in case the Fabulous Akemi needed anything.

They were the only constant presence in the clubhouse lounge. Akemi was lazily lounging on an armchair, while Godai stood patiently in attendance on her for up to a minute at a time before pacing for several more minutes. The catering staff darted in and out with trays, cups, silverware, and everything else imaginable. And now Godai could see another clump of reporters passing by the lounge's double doors heading down the hall to the press conference.

Akemi noticed Godai looking towards the noise, and her eyes narrowed as her lips widened slightly in a knowing smile. "You know," she said, as if to the air, "the paparazzi used to wait around for me after Mitaka's press conferences. That Kyôko girl will get eaten alive."

Godai's heart stopped. He'd read enough about Chigusa-_senshu_, and seen her leave quietly for long enough, to know that the model was right. Without a word, he started off towards the locker rooms.

"_**Hey!**_" Akemi shouted. "Are you really leaving me here all alone, Gofer-_kun_?"

That stopped him at the doors. "Look, you can take care of yourself," he retorted over his shoulder. "You're a big girl."

"Thanks for noticing!" She started moving toward him – and instinctively he backed up.

"But . . . Kyôko-_san_, she's . . ." In the rational part of his brain, Godai knew he'd be fired if he upset a VIP like Akemi-_san_. Still, he couldn't ignore the possibility that Chigusa-_senshu_ needed him. _Just like my daydream,_ he thought hopefully, turning the corner –

"_**Whoaa!!**_"

"And how do you think you'll get past security, Gofer-_kun_?" Yotsuya-_san_ asked, suddenly _**much**_ too close for comfort.

"W-where did you . . ." Godai started to ask. Then he saw that Yotsuya had popped out from behind a loose panel in the wall. "Never mind, I'll find a way." he insisted, moving to step past the older man. "And my name is Go_**dai!**_"

"Yes, but I _**have**_ a way." Yotsuya offered. "And _sake_."

"_Sake_? What the heck for?" Godai wasn't in the mood for a swig.

"For me, of course." Akemi reached out past him to take the bottle.

"And you want – wait a minute, how did you know. . . ?" Godai suddenly realized: Yotsuya seemed to know an awful lot about what had happened in the past two minutes for someone who wasn't in the room.

"Don't bother yourself with trifles, Gofer-_kun_. Deluxe _sushi_," Yotsuya answered. "And another bottle of _sake_."

"And one for me." Akemi was going to get as much as she could. Sure, she was rich and famous – but free liquor always tasted so much sweeter.

"You better be right or you get nothing," Godai grumbled. This was turning into quite an expensive rescue mission. _Still, I don't have time to indulge either of these distractions now._

"And you will not back out on your generous offer, Gofer-_kun_?" Yotsuya pressed him for confirmation.

"Fine, fine – just hurry!" Godai shouted. But he was the one who had to hurry through the loose panel and into the walls of the club, trying to keep up with Yotsuya-_san_. The older man was in his element now, stepping over cords and slinking around support beams in the dark, winding passageways like a snake in a narrow tunnel. _This is such a bad idea_, Godai thought. He doubted they were getting anywhere, but it was taking all of his concentration to watch carefully where Yotsuya was stepping, and not trip on some hazard himself.

Finally, Yotsuya stopped and looked Godai square in the eyes. "You must swear now to secrecy, Gofer-_kun_." He looked as serious as Godai had ever seen him. _And why not? I'll just bet this tunnel isn't something the club managers know about._

"Yes, yes, I swear!" Godai tried to hurry him up.

Yotsuya peeked through a hole in the wall for an uncomfortably long moment, then pushed open another loose panel to reveal a tile-covered room. It looked vaguely familiar to Godai, but he felt sure he hadn't been there before. Then he noticed a certain vending machine on the wall. What it contained would only be offered for sale in one kind of room – and not _**his**_ kind.

_The __**women's**_ _locker room!_

"What the heck are we doing in here?!" Godai tried to whisper instead of shout, as he looked around frantically for the exit.

"Where there's a will, there's a way; and this is the way." Yotsuya calmly sauntered towards the front door, perfectly comfortable walking in a room he should have never seen. Suddenly, a couple of chatting ball girls walked around a corner, coming from the showers in nothing but towels. Yotsuya changed course – not to avoid the young ladies – _but to __**greet**_ _them?!_

"_Konnichi wa,_" Yotsuya said with a slight bow, grabbing Godai's collar. "I was just passing through when I apprehended this young man snooping around the locker rooms."

"Hey, YOU brought ME here!" Godai tried to defend himself.

Apparently, the ladies weren't interested in finding out who did what. "**Kyaaa! **_**HENTAI!**_"

They threw their bottles of shampoo, rinse, and conditioner at the two men. Godai was beaned by a bar of soap. But instead of leading him out the front door of the dressing room in their hasty retreat, Yotsuya pulled him to one side – into the janitor's supply room – and out yet another loose panel to a hallway . . .

*==*==*==*==*==*==*==*==*

* * *

_Please read on – and don't forget a review, if you have one to spare . . . or perhaps we could tempt you to treat us to one if we offered you a bottle of _sake_, or one of Yotsuya's peepholes, whichever is to your taste._


	4. Episode 1, Part 4: Full Court Press

**Alternate Rumic World MI-1: Ace **_**no Ikkoku**_

[an offshoot from the **Variations on a "Them"** thread of the "Rumic World Messageboard"]

by **RyogasGirl** & **jalp**

(Not that we _**own**_ these characters! They belong to Takahashi-_sensei_ and whoever she says.

We've just enjoyed finding a few new ways for these people to make things _**interesting**_. . . .)

*==*==*==*==*==*==*==*==*

_Imagine there's no Sôichirô teaching at her high school. Perhaps young Chigusa Kyôko isn't as distracted from her studies. Or maybe she puts her extra time and energy into her tennis._

_She was good in the RRW (Real Rumic World). In this ARW timeline, she's better. Good enough to shine in some local tournaments – to dream of qualifying for the professional tour._

_And then she catches the eye of a certain male pro. . . ._

*==*==*==*==*==*==*==*==*

**Episode #1****: **Everybody Loves Kyôko

**Chapter 4:**

Full-Court Press

. . . and on into a room with a low temporary stage; some chairs, tables, and microphones; and all the noise and crowding for position of a press conference just about to start. Fortunately, Yotsuya had brought them in at an unoccupied corner of the room off to one side of the stage. So no had one noticed them enter – something Godai was infinitely grateful for. And – his heart skipped a beat – Kyôko-_san_ was seated on this side of the stage.

"There, you're delivered – now, just don't forget _**my**_ delivery: deluxe _sushi_." Godai heard Yotsuya's reminder, but he'd worry about that later. Another problem was clamoring for his attention. _So I'm here – great – __**now**_ _what am I going to do_?

Acting on his first impulse, Godai struggled to move closer to the stage. _Maybe I could block a camera or – two_ . . . but that line of thought quickly faltered; there were so **many** reporters. What good could he do by himself, just getting in the way of a few of them? He looked back at his former travel guide – but Yotsuya was being no help whatsoever. He even seemed to be getting buddy-buddy with one of the reporters.

Meanwhile, the rest of the army of journalists began their barrage of questions.

"Chigusa-_senshu_, why have you remained single throughout your career?" came one voice from the crowd.

"Chigusa-_senshu_, do you think you're unstoppable, as many of your fans are saying?" another voice asked.

"What do you think of Mitaka-_senshu_ as a competitor?" still another reporter shouted, just ahead of a ragged chorus of questioners – all, it seemed, seeking answers from just one of the four players on the platform.

Kyôko started off from the answer she was most comfortable with. "I think today's match went well, but I'm always trying to improve." Then, sensing that this would not stem the tide of questions, she decided to add something new, more relevant to the day's competition. "And after playing against an opponent like Mitaka-_senshu_, I know what a long way there is still to go."

"But you won today, Chigusa-_senshu_." a voice called out, asking the same question that was on everyone's mind.

"The match could have gone to either side. He really is a wonderful player, and I look forward to facing him again someday. Or maybe we could even be partners next time." Actually, Kyôko realized, she felt unusually comfortable today. She wasn't desperate to leave, as she usually was. _It's that smile_, she thought, _it really is so disarming. . . ._ Then she mentally blinked. _Disarming? What am I, under attack? He's been a gentleman so far, so why would I have my defenses up to begin with?_

Deep in thought, Kyôko remained unaware of the next few reporters' questions. She almost didn't even hear when a familiar voice rose above the crowd.

"So you would consider being my partner?"

Mitaka had stood up from his seat at the other end of the stage. He'd gained confidence from her answers to the reporters. The whole room went silent. Even the cameras stopped snapping.

"I'd be honored to be your partner, Mitaka-_senshu_, at least on a trial basis to see how compatible we are together," Kyôko answered cheerfully, bowing slightly in his direction. She knew they'd sweep any tourney together.

Now a reporter finally spoke up . . . and when he did, the temperature of the room went up several degrees. "So, what _**kind**_ of **compatibility** are you hoping for, Chigusa-_san_?"

_What __**kind**_ _of compatibility?_ Mitaka's eyes widened. He'd been around long enough to know this was going in a dangerous direction.

Kyôko's eyes were even wider. But before she could speak, one reporter got in with "When was your first date?" And "Have the two of you compared horoscopes or zodiac signs yet?" asked another.

"What are you talking about?!" But Kyôko heard her matron's whispered reminder – not that it helped: "It doesn't have to be true. . . ."

"We're just professional partners." Now the young player's eyes narrowed as she became more agitated. "So this is how you get your stories? Taking innocent comments and turning them into something they're not?"

"If you want to see his partner _**off**_ the courts, I'm right here," came a voice from the back of the room. The Fabulous Akemi had just made another stunning entrance. Several reporters turned her way. So did most of the cameras, much to the relief of the new on-court partners. Even if Akemi was probably just thinking of herself, the momentary distraction was welcome.

"So, Akemi-_san_, how do you feel about his relationship with Chigusa-_senshu_?"

"Relationship?" Kyôko reacted. "There is no relationship – we just met." Now she _**wanted**_ the press to pay her some attention . . . but it felt like her protests were in vain.

Then a tall reporter toward the back of the room piped up. "Mai-Asa Sports News . . . I understand there were two other tournaments this week that you could have played in. Did you have a particular reason to choose this one?"

_A question I can __**answer!**_ Kyôko thought, welcoming the chance to change the subject with all her heart. "Yes, I did – I really wanted to support this worthy cause, and help JAWS raise money to protect animals. My own dog was a stray, in fact." She smiled. So did the reporter. "Of course, I also knew the competition would be good . . ."

"Yes, about the match – I have a follow-up question. . ." he started to say. But, judging by the uproar, she and this one man seemed to be the only ones in the room who wanted to talk about tennis.

Before the Mai-Asa representative could finish his question, a bulkier reporter challenged him: "C'mon, buddy, we're getting something good here!" Taking advantage of the interruption, other men in the audience pulled out previously unseen cameras and pushed forward towards the stage. _Paparazzi!_ Suddenly Kyôko was facing a twin barrage of camera flashes and personal questions.

"Chigusa-_senshu_, Chigusa-_senshu_, what attracted you to Mitaka-_senshu_ first?"

"How long have you been meeting out of the public eye?"

"Akemi-_san_, did you leave Mitaka-_senshu_ or did he call it off?"

"Yes, Chigusa-_senshu_, which one of them told you about their break-up first?"

Godai had been completely entranced by the sight and the nearness of his favorite tennis pro. But now he could see she was out of her element – ganged up on by an increasingly loud and hostile press corps. Alarmed, Godai turned to the only other person in the room he knew – hoping against hope to see some back-up.

Instead, he saw Yotsuya exchanging leers with a photographer. "Yotsuya-_sa_— hey, what are you doing _**now?!**_"

"So you're saying that guy will get me four bottles of _sake_? Sure, why not? Beats what I coulda got for these – with all the competition here, it's not exactly a seller's market.." The photographer handed over a roll of 35mm film.

"What the heck?! Wait, I'm going to do **what?!**" Godai sputtered.

"Don't concern yourself with trifles," reiterated Yotsuya, pocketing the film as he pontificated at Godai.

"Fine, I probably don't want to know what that was about, anyways – but I'm not buying anyone else _sake_." Godai took a step towards the stairs at the end of the stage – but the clamor had only grown, and he wasn't able to go any farther. _Neither will the press conference,_ he realized.

"It seems Chigusa-_senshu_ is in need of your assistance after all," Yotsuya was saying, looking up at the stage where the young star had risen and was trying to find a way out of the mess. "And I can help you help her, Gofer-_kun_," he added calmly, unfazed by the crowd around them.

"I don't want any more of _**your**_ kind of help!" Godai snarled. _But what else can I do?_ He too could see Kyôko-_san_ frantically looking this way and that for a break in the confusion. Mitaka-_senshu_ was standing as well – but he was on the far end of the stage, and it wouldn't be easy for him to get to her side either. _Shikata ga nai._ "Oh, never mind! Go ahead, just do whatever it is you have in mi**i**_**ii**_ — !"

Suddenly he found himself flying into another nearby cameraman, knocking him and his tripod over. And with the crowd as thick as it was, this meant several more people fell over in turn. In no time at all, a line of human dominoes had cleared a path through the confusion, leading right up to the stairs down from the stage.

"Chigusa-_senshu_, this way!" Yotsuya stepped over the now-prone Godai, offering his hand to the relieved tennis pro.

"Look, we can get out of here." Ichinose-_san_ grabbed Kyôko's other hand and pulled her through the hole Yotsuya – and Godai – had made, pushing aside the few reporters who tried to get in the way. "_Arigatô gozaimasu!_" she hollered to Yotsuya in passing, as she ran interference for her charge.

Things were moving too fast for Kyôko – _**she**_ was moving too fast – to notice everything that was going on. But as she joined her matron and lead blocker in thanking Yotsuya-_san_, she realized there was someone else literally underfoot. She bent her head down as she ran (coincidentally spoiling the aim of three more photographers), and said, "_Gomen nasai, ne?_ I'm very sorry about this – but thank you too, whoever you are!"

"Ahh, don't worry about him – save your breath for running!" Ichinose-_san_ advised her. "Besides, gofers like him love to dig holes in the ground anyway."

They ran out of the conference room towards two security guards waiting to escort them out a private exit to the reserved parking area. Without the star attraction there, the reporters began to filter out of the room. The few who tried to follow Chigusa-_senshu_ found two men in their path, and had to backtrack to the room's regular doorway.

"Stop brushing me off like that, and let me go!!"

"Are you not going to thank me as well, Gofer-_kun_?" Yotsuya switched to straightening out Godai's vest, lining up the seams and creases with those in his uniform trousers . . . and continuing to steer him into the aisle, using the young man like a human fly-swatter to shoo away the last, most persistent journalists.

"What for? I could have stood up faster myself if you hadn't kept picking me up right in the way of that TV camera! Ooohhh. . . ." Godai moaned, holding his back.

"Now, now, steady, Gofer-_kun_," Yotsuya replied, giving the younger man a solid two-handed shoulder tap that raised one more cloud of dust. "Is that any way to _**treat**_ someone who's magically granted your wish?"

"What are you talking about, you rat?" Godai coughed weakly through the haze.

"_Sumimasen_, what was that?" Yotsuya put his hand up to his ear, and his ear up toward Godai's mouth.

"You _**rat**_, I said! You pushed me down, took all the credit, and got pictures of Lord-knows-what from one of those paparazzi. Why should **I have to buy you **_**anything?!**_" Godai's voice picked up steam as his throat slowly cleared, and the volume actually drove Yotsuya back an inch or two.

"Oh, was that your question? Well, the main reason is that I delivered you here as promised – and as a result of our taking our positions here at just the right time, the lovely Chigusa-_senshu_ is now safely on her way home." Yotsuya turned around to leave, pulling a panel away from the wall. "Now, if you will excuse me – and I believe you have some custodial duties awaiting you out in the stands."

"And where are _**you**_ going?" Godai couldn't help asking.

"Oh, I must head back to the clubhouse lounge."

"B-b-but those ladies might still be in the locker room. Are you really going back in there?" Godai protested, even as he was thinking, _What do I care if Yotsuya gets beaned with more shampoo?_

"Oh, I'm sure the sight of you hurried them along to leave more quickly than usual, Gofer-_kun_," Yotsuya said matter-of-factly. "But you're right – I'm going to take the other way back to the clubhouse."

"The _**other**_ way? You mean we didn't have to go through the ladies' locker room?!"

"No, we didn't _**HAVE**_ to. . . ." And Yotsuya disappeared into the darkness. Just as the slat fell into place with a slap, he called out, "I'll be back for the party."

_Party?_

Godai strolled slowly back to the employee's lounge where he could punch out for the day. _Finally._ He hoped that Kyôko-_san_ had made it to wherever she had been going. But the last thing Yotsuya-_san_ had said was still buzzing in his head. _Party? Oh!_ He came to a sudden realization. Hadn't Mitaka-_shachô_ needed the conference room after the reporters left? _Of course, a post-tournament soirée. Of course, Kyôko_-_san will be there. And after all, a soirée needs waiters._ He quickly started towards his manager's office to volunteer for overtime. _But first, I'll make a phone call. This may give me a chance to pay back a debt I owe. . . ._

*==*==*==*==*==*==*==*==*

Yes, everybody loves Kyôko. But some of us have uncomfortable ways of showing it.

Maybe it's no wonder that Chigusa-_senshu_ has so far declined all requests for personal interviews. But it feels like one. In today's world, we're not used to anyone who could be a star – a nova – maybe a supernova – but who doesn't want to shine in the public eye.

Is that mysterious? Maybe if you're Greta Garbo. In this writer's opinion, a better word for Chigusa Kyôko is simply "private".

Still, the mystery behind this phenom, this phenomenon, this "Chigusa puzzle", has only served to make paparazzi follow the reserved athlete that much closer.

Needless to say, "everybody" includes me – and I'll be keeping an eye on the new darling of the Japanese tennis world like every other fan. But – fair warning to readers who may hope for inside stories – I won't always have the closest view. Because I'm going to watch as politely and respectfully as I can.

As if she has a right to a private life – just like the rest of us.

*==*==*==*==*==*==*==*==*

* * *

_Although Ky__ô__ko does appreciate her privacy, we won't mind if you take another glimpse or two into her life. If you don't mind being nosy either, please read on – and please tell us what you think of our retelling of her story in a review._


	5. Episode 1, Part 5: Singles Or Doubles?

**Alternate Rumic World MI-1: Ace **_**no Ikkoku**_

[an offshoot from the **Variations on a "Them"** thread of the "Rumic World Messageboard"]

by **RyogasGirl** & **jalp**

(Not that we _**own**_ these characters! They belong to Takahashi-_sensei_ and whoever she says.

We've just enjoyed finding a few new ways for these people to make things _**interesting**_. . . .)

*==*==*==*==*==*==*==*==*

_Imagine there's no Sôichirô teaching at her high school. Perhaps young Chigusa Kyôko isn't as distracted from her studies. Or maybe she puts her extra time and energy into her tennis._

_She was good in the RRW (Real Rumic World). In this ARW timeline, she's better. Good enough to shine in some local tournaments – to dream of qualifying for the professional tour._

_And then she catches the eye of a certain male pro. . . ._

*==*==*==*==*==*==*==*==*

**Episode #1****: **Everybody Loves Kyôko

**Chapter 5:**

Singles or Doubles?

Having finally made it to her apartment, Kyôko flopped down at the armrest pillow sitting by her _kotatsu_ table. Ichinose-_san_ and Kentarô-_kun_ had gone back to their apartment, and Kyôko was happy to have nothing around her but peace and –

_***Bau!***_ Sôichirô-_san_ planted his two front paws on his mistress' lap, panting happily. _Well, peace, anyway._

"I'm sorry I had to leave you with Ichinose-_san_ all day, Sôichirô-_san_." Kyôko smiled and stroked his head. "I hope she wasn't too crazy for you."

Sôichirô-_san_ seemed satisfied that they were home again and lay down at Kyôko's feet. The apartment seemed eerily quiet after the craziness of the afternoon. The silence gave Kyôko time to think about all that had happened in the past few hours.

Partners with Mitaka? What had made her bring that up – at the press conference of all places? _Still, why not?_ Kyôko thought to herself. _If we play well together, maybe this whole relationship thing will blow over. There's nothing to it anyway. Maybe it won't even make it to the papers._

She was pulled from her thoughts by her phone ringing. _It's a private number – but is it still private enough? Well, without Ichinose here, there's only one way to find out._ Warily, she answered it. "_Moshi-moshi_, Chigusa _desu_."

"Chigusa-_senshu_? It's Mitaka Yentarô, Shun's uncle." Kyôko had to admit, he was the last person she had expected to hear from. She'd heard his name before, but had never met him.

"Oh, that's right – you're a backer for the tournament, aren't you?" she recalled.

"Ah, so you do know me! Very good. Yes, well, being on the board of the club has its responsibilities," he chuckled. "Would you be interested in coming to an event this evening at the club to celebrate the end of the tournament?" Yentarô asked in such a way that it seemed like disagreeing would be out of the question. Still, Kyôko made an attempt to find a way out. "Well, it was a long day and I didn't really . . ."

"We'll have some people from the charity there – and I'm sure they would want to meet you and Toshihisa . . . you'd be the natural guests of honor, of course," Yentarô went on, as if Kyôko hadn't objected at all.

_Guest of honor?_ Kyôko's spirits, which had risen for a moment at the thought of meeting someone involved with JAWS – _maybe I could even bring Sôichirô-_san _to meet them!_ – drooped again. She sighed heavily. Still, she knew there were certain obligations sports stars couldn't escape. _If they're going to treat me like this,_ she thought with a small smile both wry and rueful, _maybe it means I really __**am**_ _a star now._ "Well, I suppose I could stop by for a little while." But how could she fend off any further attack journalists? _Well –_ "Could I bring my matron along?"

"Your matron? Well . . ." Yentarô recalled the plump woman with Sapporo on her breath who'd introduced herself earlier that day. He'd been surprised to discover she was the person the Tour had made responsible for watching over an important star like Chigusa-_senshu_. Still, he knew it wasn't his place to say anything about someone the young player evidently trusted. After all, the matron was no worse than Akemi. And Yentarô knew, even better than his nephew, when not to overplay his hand with a woman. "Of course. Quite a jovial woman, isn't she?"

"Um, yes," Kyôko agreed. Then, glancing toward the clock on the wall: "I'll have to make a few arrangements, however. If I can arrive by 8 o'clock, will that be all right?"

"We will await you anxiously, my dear." Yentarô answered quickly, then disconnected. _All the better to avoid giving you either any offense or an opportunity to back down, my dear._

_It would be nice to see some of the good the tournament does,_ Kyôko thought. Still, as she hung up the phone . . .

"What have I gotten myself into, Sôichirô-_san_?" Kyôko asked her inquisitive companion.

_***Bau!***_ He answered, as if he could understand.

*==*==*==*==*==*==*==*==*

Akemi came out from the dressing room in a sequined red dress low cut enough to show ample cleavage and high enough to show off her flawless legs. It was almost nothing more than a band of cloth to cover up the essential parts. And a little label with a name big enough to pay for the top model's time, of course. She sat down in the chair for makeup and Shun sat next to her to talk.

He didn't mind her being photographed in such outfits; it was her job. Besides, her ability to attract attention had come in handy after Kyôko had left the press conference. Some of the reporters had asked Mitaka a few questions about Chigusa-_senshu_. He'd declined to answer, saying that they were just professional partners, nothing more – and they'd only been that for a few minutes. In case anyone doubted him, Akemi made herself a very visible presence and explanation. And the photographers at least had been content with that.

But it was the match that really occupied his mind. Mitaka spoke almost without taking a breath.

"Well, that second set was a nail-biter. I couldn't believe we almost got swept. Did you see that first point? I knew from then on I'd have to take Chigusa-_san_ more seriously. I mean, I think I was in good form today, but she really played well. It was unreal how fast she moved from one side of the court to the other. And that last shot? To be honest, I think I knew from the moment she hit it that I'd never be able to reach it. I should have asked her what kind of racket she uses. Of course, I love my Kirakira Mikado Original Graphite – I think hers was a Head. I know if we play mixed doubles together, we'll dominate the court. The next tournament is in a few weeks."

When Akemi finally got a word in edgewise, it wasn't a happy one. "So you do like this Kyôko girl?" The makeup girl cringed. She knew that tone. Akemi had a lot to say and she was going to say it.

"Now you know that's not true, Akemi-_san_. Just because some reporters took something too far . . ." Mitaka went on the defensive – never his favorite strategy.

"You've been talking about her the whole time!" Akemi turned towards him, smearing the eyeshadow the makeup girl had been applying. "Roppongi-_san_, please try to stay still." She quickly got out the makeup remover.

"Tsk – I have somewhere to be, and it's already 6," Akemi scowled.

"You seem more focused than usual today," Mitaka noted, changing the subject – and trying to be subtle about the new one.

"Yeah, I'm flat sober, Shun honey." Akemi smiled, knowing exactly what he meant. "Your uncle promised me a party tonight at the club."

"One of Uncle Yentarô's parties? Well, there will be plenty of your _sake_ there," Mitaka said half-heartedly, his thoughts returning to Kyôko.

"Yeah, anyone who's any fun will be there – and the people from the match today." Akemi winced as the makeup girl plucked her eyebrows.

"All the players?" Mitaka was suddenly interested again.

"Yeah, that Kyôko will be there." Akemi said without turning to face him.

Somehow his "That's not what I meant" came out as "Well, I'll go too."

"Of course you will. You wouldn't miss an event with your **new** partner, _ne_?" Akemi remarked. As the makeup girl finished, she stood up and started to head for the set – where the photographer and art director were waiting.

This time Mitaka managed to start to say, "No, that's not why . . ." But she cut him off – in more ways than one.

"What's the matter? It's the truth, isn't it?" she shot back over her shoulder – then strode off.

And before Shun could try to follow, or to explain again, an assistant was politely but firmly showing him to the door. "Sorry, sir, closed set, top-secret ad campaign and slogans, no outsiders permitted."

_Outsider?_ he thought, standing surprised in the hallway. _**That's**_ _not the truth, Akemi . . . or is it?_

*==*==*==*==*==*==*==*==*

"_Kaa-chan_, what's for dinner?" Kentarô whined as his mother was noshing on her own liquid meal.

"We have plenty of instant ramen," Ichinose-_san_ countered.

"Remember last week when you made sukiyaki?" Kentarô hoped his strong hint wouldn't fall on deaf ears. He'd had ramen for dinner three nights in a row.

"Yeah, that sure was a lot of work. It's too hot for that today. It's almost too hot to boil water for ramen . . ." She started.

"Let's get something delivered, then!" Kentarô suddenly brightened. "From that place with all the great rice bowls!"

"Delivered? Well, that would be less work, but –" A sudden knock pulled his mother off that line of thought and to the door. "Oh, Kyôko-_san_! Something happen?"

"Well, sort of. I hope you're not too busy. I just got a call from Mitaka Yentarô, Shun's uncle," Kyôko started.

"So you're calling lover-boy 'Shun' now, eh?" the chaperone grinned.

"Now, now, Hanae-_san_, just listen," Kyôko *tsk-tsk*ed at her. "He's having a big party tonight at the club. I asked him if I could bring you along. I'm just afraid of reporters acting the same way they did earlier . . ." The player was noticeably fidgety.

"As long as they have something to drink, you know I'll come." Ichinose was dependable in that way, Kyôko thought. _Actually, despite appearances,_ _she's been very dependable._

"Thank you . . . oh!" Kyôko suddenly looked to Kentarô, who had turned to a book he'd been reading earlier. "What about Kentarô-_kun_? We can't just leave him here without dinner."

"Hmm, you're right." Ichinose turned to her son. "How about you watch Sôichirô-_san_ for Kyôko while we're out? And to make up for my not being here, I'll order you the deluxe _oyako-don_, with extra _oya_ – and plenty of pickles."

"Really, _kaa-chan_?!" Kentarô jumped up from his book. "Can I, Chigusa-_san_? Can I?"

"Well, that's not what I meant . . ." Kyôko couldn't help but notice how excited he was about the prospect of being trusted with Sôichirô-_san_'s care. "Well, okay – just watch him and don't let him out."

"_Hai!_ I have a ball he can play with, and I'll teach him two new tricks before you get back!" Kentarô ran to his closet to look for the toy.

"I know I have some menus around here someplace . . . have you seen my purse?" Ichinose shuffled around the apartment, looking in every drawer.

"Your purse is on the kitchen table, and the menus are in the second drawer on the right." Kentarô yelled from his room. Kyôko had to laugh at the scene.

_Well, I suppose it's okay. After all, he's even more dependable than his mother. . . ._

*==*==*==*==*==*==*==*==*

On the way back to the tennis club after the shoot, Mitaka tried to explain to Akemi the way he felt about Kyôko. He kept insisting that it was purely a professional interest. She'd started out just teasing him, something she was good at, but now it seemed like he was a little too defensive. She wasn't interested in discussing Mitaka's relationship with his new partner – or lack thereof – without a little something to take the edge off the conversation. In the anticipation of her first drink in hours, Akemi decided to let it go.

The designer had let Akemi keep the dress she'd been modeling to wear to the party that night. Shun had to admit, it suited her to a T. _She'll be catching eyes all night long._ Though he was certain that would happen no matter what she wore. _Or what she does while she wears it. I guess the designer calculated the chance for more publicity against the __**risk**_ _of more publicity – just like my uncle._

But as he pulled the car up to the club, Shun had to admit that Uncle Yentarô's business calculations were usually pretty good. He always seemed to pull together dazzling events at the drop of a hat, and tonight was no exception. And somehow every sports writer in the city knew about it.

Cameras flashed as he opened the door for Akemi and helped her out. After the incident this afternoon, reporters were the last people he wanted to see, though he did manage a bright smile. Akemi, however, reveled in the attention she felt she'd been denied earlier in the day. While Akemi tried to go inside for the party, Shun scanned the parking lot for any sign of Kyôko.

"Who you looking for, Shun honey?" Akemi's eyes narrowed.

"Just seeing who's arrived." Shun's smile glinted like the camera flashes.

"Don't worry, I'm sure she's inside." She continued to guide him in and he conceded.

It was incredible what Yentarô had been able to set up. There must have been 60 people there enjoying a full bar, a long buffet, and even a dance floor where a few couples were testing out the music. Akemi strolled right over to the bar, leaned over it, and waved over the bartender. Shun followed her absentmindedly, scanning the groups of people – some he recognized, more he didn't.

Just as Mitaka had resigned himself to an evening of boring chitchat, the one person he had hoped to see stepped through the door, with her matron close at hand. _What a contrast. . . !_ No, not between Ichinose and Kyôko – that went without thinking, much less saying. Mitaka's thoughts were on the long midnight blue gown adorning Kyôko's lovely form. It wasn't as revealing as Akemi's outfit – and it didn't have to be. The dress spoke to her inner self. Kyôko was a treasure, mysterious and elegant.

"I should go apologize for the press conference." Shun quickly said the first thing which came to mind – however transparent an excuse it may have been.

"You two have fun," Akemi replied, turning from him. There was no point in fighting it.

Before Mitaka could take two steps, Etsuko came up to him to tell him she'd enjoyed the match that day. Unable to avoid the conversation, he gave her a quick "_Konban wa_", agreed, and introduced Akemi. By the time he turned back, Kyôko was in a conversation with someone else already. Well, he wasn't going to let that deter him – until he saw the man's companion . . . a large German shepherd wearing a "JAWS" vest.

* * *

_If you know the original story, you'll know what's coming next! Well, right next, anyway. But what will happen after __**that?**__ Take a deep breath, cling to your closest neighbor, and read on. And if you're not too scared to type, please review._


	6. Episode 1, Part 6: Love Game?

**Alternate Rumic World MI-1: Ace **_**no Ikkoku**_

[an offshoot from the **Variations on a "Them"** thread of the "Rumic World Messageboard"]

by **RyogasGirl** & **jalp**

(Not that we _**own**_ these characters! They belong to Takahashi-_sensei_ and whoever she says.

We've just enjoyed finding a few new ways for these people to make things _**interesting**_. . . .)

*==*==*==*==*==*==*==*==*

_Imagine there's no Sôichirô teaching at her high school. Perhaps young Chigusa Kyôko isn't as distracted from her studies. Or maybe she puts her extra time and energy into her tennis._

_She was good in the RRW (Real Rumic World). In this ARW timeline, she's better. Good enough to shine in some local tournaments – to dream of qualifying for the professional tour._

_And then she catches the eye of a certain male pro. . . ._

*==*==*==*==*==*==*==*==*

**Episode #1****: **Everybody Loves Kyôko

**Chapter 6:**

Love Game?

"D-d-dog." Mitaka stepped back as his heart raced.

"First she's all you can talk about, then she's a dog? What's wrong with y-" But Akemi stopped short – as Mitaka was suddenly clinging to her as if for dear life. "Well! . . . You know, when we got here I thought you were going to ignore me all night. I guess I was wrong."

Akemi embraced the enthusiatic Shun and kissed him deeply. It might not have been enough to make him completely forget his fear of the dog, but Mitaka kissed her back, unable to ignore the passion of the moment.

Meanwhile, Kyôko was at her ease, laughing with the dog's owner – a guest of JAWS – as they shared stories about their rambunctious pooches. She'd been unnerved about coming to this event because she knew reporters would be here – but when she met this fellow dog-lover, who'd found his companion through the rescue network, she was reminded of her own experiences with Sôichirô-_san_.

The man was saying, "Hachikô **{fn3}** chased that squirrel all the way to the end of the next block before it ran up a tree. It took me an hour to get him to come back home – and stop barking." He laughed, then thoughtfully stroked his companion's head. "Though he hasn't left my side since."

"Sôichirô-_san_ has been kind of hard to train too – actually darn near impossible, but I wouldn't trade him for anything." Kyôko had almost forgotten her worries about where she was – when loud whoops and a number of bright flashes from across the room startled her from her conversation. There at the bar not 20 feet away was Mitaka Shun in a passionate embrace with the Fabulous Akemi.

As Kyôko looked at him, she couldn't help but feel a little hurt. He wasn't her boyfriend – he wasn't her anything quite yet – but it seemed like the kiss had been done deliberately in front of her, to show her he was already taken. _He took it the wrong way; I meant professional partners. Still, he didn't have to do this here._

"Chigusa-_senshu_, Chigusa-_senshu_!" A reporter seemed to descend on her from out of nowhere, catching her gaze. "Is the affair over already?"

"_**Affair?!**_ There never _**was**_ –" Kyôko tried again to dispel the rumor which had already gone much too far. But again, the reporters ignored her answers in favor of asking more questions.

Ichinose jumped down from her barstool, passing Shun and Akemi on the way across the room. "You just had to show her here, didn't you, lover-boy? And you'll just sit here like that?" But she didn't wait for an answer.

Which was just as well. _C-c-can't move_. Mitaka, despite all his best efforts, could only cling to Akemi as he heard the dog whining to his owner.

"Haven't you guys had enough?" Ichinose insinuated herself between Kyôko and the reporters – a nice trick for someone of her shape. Still, given her stature, she wasn't exactly an intimidating presence. "Just one more question, Chigusa-_senshu_!" another reporter called out over Ichinose's head, as if she were invisible.

Even if they couldn't see her, though, they could definitely feel her – pushing, shoving, acting as a human blockade, keeping them at bay. But the row was already attracting more attention – and more cameras.

"You'd better go," the matron hollered to her charge – then laughed, "I'll make sure the party doesn't crash entirely without you!"

Kyôko had started backing toward the door, but hesitated. "But how will you get home?"

"I'll be fine," Ichinose assured her. "Go on!" Kyôko nodded and hurried towards her car.

*==*==*==*==*==*==*==*==*

_Darn that Iioka, keeping me in the kitchen all night_. Godai grumbled as he ran towards the conference room with an ice sculpture which had arrived two hours late. It had already started to melt, but the big sponsor wanted it – so his boss, Iioka, wanted it – now. Still, it was the opportunity he'd been waiting for; he'd finally be able to see Kyôko. It was a long walk through the parking lot, though, and the cart's wheels were shaky. _A ¥60,000 sculpture and he puts it on the least stable cart!_

Just as he'd almost made it inside the room, the wheels caught on something and the top-heavy sculpture of the tennis trophy smashed on the pavement. Godai's heart melted with the ice. _Iioka's going to fire me, after all. What the heck did I catch on? _Without giving it much more thought, he crouched down to start gathering pieces of ice – and wished there were that easy a way to pick up the pieces of his job here – and his shattered dream. _If I could just, maybe . . . _He started to stack a few larger pieces on top of each other, turning his head this way and that to get a better look. _Well, if I can convince them it's abstract art . . ._

With a sigh of defeat, Godai abandoned his feeble attempt to reassemble his . . . life. _Forget it. Just think – tonight was going to be the night I actually had a chance to say something to her, be the one to do something for her when she asked . . ._

"_Sumimasen_ – I know you're busy, but could you help me find my keys? They have a keychain with a chick that's saying 'piyo-piyo'." The voice he heard was uncharacteristically flustered . . . or it would have sounded that way to most people, except that he'd heard that tone before. ***tsk*** "It may seem silly, but my grandfather gave me that keychain. . . ."

Godai's head snapped upright. _It couldn't be_.

"I was in a hurry. I think I dropped them somewhere around here." She continues to scan the ground as she spoke.

"Chigusa-_senshu_!" Godai dropped the ice he was holding and spun around. "I'd be happy to help you!"

Kyôko could tell he was a fan from his enthusiasm – _but a nice one_, she decided. No camera in sight, and he's keeping at a polite distance. "I've been looking for quite some time now. ***sigh*** I just want to go home . . ."

"I'd be happy to call you a taxi if you'd like to wait inside at the party. I'm sure Mitaka-_senshu_ is –" Godai started.

"**No!**" Kyôko cut off the young man's offer quickly – and rather too loudly. Going on in a half-whisper, she explained: "Reporters – and photographers – they seem to be getting more and more aggressive."

"Oh . . . well, the employee lounge is empty right now, if you want to wait there instead. It's not fancy or anything, but it is quiet." Godai became frantic and hopeful at the same time – _alone with Kyôko-_san_?! . . ._

"That sounds perfect," Kyôko smiled – and they left together. The ice . . . went on melting.

*==*==*==*==*==*==*==*==*

Back inside at the gala, the dog-lover had left for the evening soon after Kyôko, clearing the room of canines. Now that the grip of Shun's phobia had loosened, he was able to appreciate just how incredibly idiotic he had looked to Kyôko. Akemi, on the other hand, couldn't have been happier. They were arm-in-arm working the room. Mitaka's smile glistened slightly dimmer than usual, but not so much as to be noticeable to anyone but his closest friends.

"Here, have a drink, Shun honey." Akemi offered him a sip from her substantial glass.

"Uh, not right now, okay? Toshihisa's here – I should congratulate him on his game. I played with him at the Davis Cup last year; he's improved a lot," Mitaka remarked as he looked at a group of players he knew.

"Well, if you're too busy thinking about _**tennis**_ to party, maybe you can find your uncle and send _**him**_ my way," Akemi mock-pouted at him.

"I'll do that," Mitaka agreed. "You'd probably prefer his company to mine anyway," he added, tossing one of those smiles over his shoulder at her.

"Not for everything, Shun honey!" she cooed at him – then started slinking over toward the open bar, drawing at least half the eyes in the place like pretty poison. The last pair of eyes following her appraisingly belonged to the somewhat less fashionable woman on the next stool at the bar.

"You're just showing off now," Ichinose remarked to the redhead.

"Damn straight." Akemi grinned slyly, taking another long sip.

"Well, I can't agree with your way of messing around in Chigusa-_senshu_'s life – but anyone who can drink like you do can't be all bad!" Ichinose grinned back, then knocked back a good gulp of her Sapporo.

"Drinking beer at a place like this?" Akemi reached for a nearby bottle. "Shun-honey's uncle is paying, so have some _sake_."

"Free liquor . . ." Ichinose started.

"Always tastes sweeter," Akemi finished, handing Ichinose a large glass.

"Well then, let's liven up this party!" Ichinose pulled out her ever-present fans to start her song and dance, garnering stares from among the more conservative guests.

"Oi, another bottle!" Akemi called loudly. Unfortunately, this was one woman the bartender knew he couldn't refuse.

*==*==*==*==*==*==*==*==*

Shun was already halfway down the hall with the private meeting rooms. _Which one was it again?_ He knew his uncle had to be here somewhere. _The old man's never too far from the fun at his soirées._ Mitaka turned quickly in surprise when the sound of a small door slapping shut pulled him from his thoughts.

"Looking for your uncle, Mitaka-_san_?" Yotsuya was directly behind Shun, leering over him.

"What? Where'd you come from?" Mitaka scanned the hallway – there were no doors close by.

"He's in the next room," Yotsuya pointed out, ignoring the question.

_Oh, never mind_, Mitaka sighed to himself. He turned the knob, and there was – Kyôko! _**Huh?!**_ He blinked, but she was still there – and about to smash a forehand right at him! Big as life – and, come to think of it, twice as glossy.

_Oh. . . ._

"What do you think, Shun? Will it take a whole month to sell the first hundred thousand? We're distributing across Japan and we'll be in the rest of Asia by the end of the month. By the end of the summer – North America. Those people will buy anything Japanese these days – unlike when I was your age." Yentarô was fired up about his new business.

"A lovely likeness." Yotsuya grabbed the poster, admiring it closely.

"And there's this one. We didn't have one of you two together, but I think this split shot looks nice." Yentarô brought Shun to the back of the room where a prototype poster sat in an easel. Above shots of Kyôko and Shun hitting returns was the prominent phrase: "Japan's New Dream Team: Mitaka and Chigusa – Unbeatable!"

"Posters? When did you decide this? Did Chigusa-_senshu_ agree?" Mitaka couldn't believe that Kyôko would want this kind of publicity spread across the world after this afternoon's press conference, much less tonight's fiasco.

"After the press conference, I went to the press office, got some stock photos, had them edited and printed up this prototype. Arrived 20 minutes ago. Hey, the partnership was her idea anyway. She'll love it." Yentarô beamed at his own abilities.

"Well, I'd like to talk to her first anyway before you send these off to the printers." Shun remained doubtful, but he knew when Yentarô _oji-san_ was on a roll about his business, not even anybody in the family could slow him down. _Then again,_ Mitaka thought to himself, _maybe it's just as well. I'd rather listen to him talk than risk saying something I don't want him to hear yet._

"I'm sure you would," Yentarô grinned.

"_Oji-san_, please – not you, too." He defended himself halfheartedly. "You know, Akemi has been talking about it since this afternoon."

Right now, his uncle was in full flood about how well things had turned out to set up the launch of Japan's newest mixed-doubles partnership. "Roppongi-_san_ did raise your profile quite a bit for a while, Shun, but she is essentially a distraction."

That was safe enough to answer. "Yes – it's always been one of her best roles," he put in.

"Right – but now it's almost typecasting," Yentarô absorbed the new trickle into his stream-of-consciousness conversation. "And the perception is that she's distracting _**you**_ from playing stronger tennis and having better results. So it's an ideal time for you to have a good reason for moving on – one that doesn't cost you any of your likeability."

"That's why your plan was to arrange things so she'd start dumping me herself – and I'd land on my feet with your new poster girl?" _That's it – don't sound too eager, Shun._

"Exactly. Akemi's known for having a talent for making scenes – and stealing some, too. So we had to handle it delicately. Of course, the pairings and seedings for this tournament couldn't have worked out better for us if I'd . . . managed to make them a little less random." For once, Mitaka knew how a normal person felt on the receiving end of one of the family smiles. But before he could recover and ask a question, his uncle had gone on.

"And your timing was perfect, Shun. I'd almost swear you knew exactly when she was going to get there, and how fast she'd try to grab the spotlight. It set the stage for the public to feel even more sympathy for Chigusa-_senshu_ . . . and to feel that much more eager to see you two play together!"

The older man stepped toward the window as he spoke, looking out at the setting sun – but it was a new dawn he was seeing. "Just watch – even those hounds in the press will be baying another tune by tomorrow. In no time at all, they'll be calling you Japan's answer to Connors and Evert. I won't even have to plant the idea," he chuckled knowingly. "And Kirakira Sports will have the two biggest stars in Japan! A dream team! Something to celebrate!"

His abundant good mood carried him to the door. Then he turned back to his nephew. "Coming, Shun?"

"I'll be out in a minute, Uncle. You go ahead," Shun replied – and added a grin of his own. "After all, Akemi may want someone to celebrate with." Uncle Yentarô waved half a salute in acknowledgment as he headed out to the ballroom.

"_Dream team", eh? Uncle, you don't know the half of it,_ Shun thought. _You want Chigusa-_senshu _as part of the family business. You have a big publicity campaign ready to kick off. Fine. But I have a campaign of my own planned. I've never seen anyone who'd make a more perfect partner for me – at my side, for tennis . . . and for life._

_And that's where she's going to be._

"It may take some time," he mused. "She needs some time to get used to the pressures of being on the Tour – and in the spotlight. But I can be patient." The trademark Mitaka smile flashed. "Now that we're a team, she'll naturally turn to me to teach her about living and playing as a tennis pro. To protect her from the press, and some of the unsavory people who hang around the Tour.

"No matter which way she turns, she'll see me . . . closer to her than anybody else . . . _**her**_ perfect partner."

Looking at the poster again, he imagined them on the court together – on the same team, instead of against each other. She would catch all of the shots he couldn't – and he would catch hers. He wanted to tell her how perfect they would be together. Despite how the press conference had turned out, he was glad she had brought up the possibility of their partnership. All right, so maybe _oji-san_ was taking things a bit too far, too fast – but he couldn't deny that it was going in the direction he'd hoped it would. _So maybe the reporters weren't so far off, after all._

One more Mitaka smile lit the darkened room. _And once Akemi lets go of me, there'll be nothing between me and Kyôko. Nothing . . . and nobody._

*==*==*==*==*==*==*==*==*

* * *

_Yentar__ô__ has quite an enterprise in mind, using Ky__ô__ko and Shun's popularity to push his merchandise. Don't worry, loyal readers, we make no profit from __**our**__ venture. But we __**do**__ put great value on reviews._

**{fn3}** – The name of this dog, "Hachikô", came from the story of a very loyal dog in Japan. When his master died from a sudden stroke and didn't return home, Hachikô waited at the train station for him for over 10 years.


	7. Episode 1, Part 7: Return Of Service

**Alternate Rumic World MI-1: Ace **_**no Ikkoku**_

[an offshoot from the **Variations on a "Them"** thread of the "Rumic World Messageboard"]

by **RyogasGirl** & **jalp**

(Not that we _**own**_ these characters! They belong to Takahashi-_sensei_ and whoever she says.

We've just enjoyed finding a few new ways for these people to make things _**interesting**_. . . .)

*==*==*==*==*==*==*==*==*

_Imagine there's no Sôichirô teaching at her high school. Perhaps young Chigusa Kyôko isn't as distracted from her studies. Or maybe she puts her extra time and energy into her tennis._

_She was good in the RRW (Real Rumic World). In this ARW timeline, she's better. Good enough to shine in some local tournaments – to dream of qualifying for the professional tour._

_And then she catches the eye of a certain male pro. . . ._

*==*==*==*==*==*==*==*==*

**Episode #1****: **Everybody Loves Kyôko

**Chapter 7:**

Return of Service

The employee lounge was just as the nice young man had promised – far from fancy. A single stainless steel sink and electric tea kettle were on one wall, with a refrigerator next to the counter. A few lockers, a payphone, and a table with folding chairs completed the decor. Kyôko didn't mind at all. _At least the reporters and photographers aren't here._

"I need a taxi at the Tôkyô Lawn Tennis Club. Behind the main building. Oh – and as quiet as possible, please. Okay. Thank you." Godai hung up the payphone before sitting down. "It won't be long, Chigusa-_senshu_. Sorry about the room; we don't get a lot of guests in here . . ."

"Not at all, I'm just glad to be out of that party." She smiled graciously.

"Oh, I should offer you something . . . umm . . . I think we have some tea in the cabinet, but it's nothing special." Godai's nerves were getting the better of him. _What do I say . . . what do I say. . . ?_

"Don't worry about me. I'm not really someone you have to impress. Some tea would be very nice, thank you." Kyôko knew she'd never get used to people fawning over her. It just made her uncomfortable to be pampered. She took a mirror out of her purse and began to look for the pins holding up her hair. "Another good thing about being here instead of at that party – it also means I can get these pins out. *tsk* They pinch like crazy."

As her hair fell down around her shoulders lock by lock, Godai's heart began to race. She looked so much more like herself – the beautiful Kyôko he'd long admired – with her hair loose and free. He could almost see her in her white skirt and sweatband, racing for an errant serve.

"I think that's enough tea; I don't like it too strong." Kyôko pulled him from his fantasy as he realized he'd emptied the entire canister into the pot.

"Oh, I – I . . . _sumimasen_. I'll take some out." _Focus, _baka_, focus. Say something_. "Those reporters were vicious this morning. I'm glad you made it out."

"Were you there?" Kyôko looked at him, then turned her head to one side and stood on tiptoe trying to see him from a different angle. "Oh! You're the young man who I . . . oh, are you okay?"

"You remember me?" _She remembers me_!

"Of course! You fell and knocked over that reporter," Kyôko answered. "It was lucky for me, but I felt bad that you tripped over one of those wires stretching all across the room for the press conference."

"Umm . . . yeah . . . no big deal. I'm just glad it worked out for you in the end." Godai smiled a bit sheepishly. _Tripped? Well, there's no point in telling her the truth_.

"Well, then, I guess this is really the second time you've helped me. _Arigatô gozaimasu._" And Kyôko bowed slightly to the fan. Somehow she felt comfortable with him, despite his apparent clumsiness.

Godai blushed slightly. He was having a real conversation with her. Never in his life had he ever wished harder for a massive traffic jam. _Please let the taxi never come_. "Actually, I've really always admired –"

_***Wham!***_

"Oi!" One of Godai's fellow waiters burst through the door. _Of course. My _pal _Sakamoto. One of these days I'll kill him. . . ._

"_**There**_ you are! What did you do to that ice sculpture, buddy?! And why in the world did you just leave it out there on the ground? The boss is looking for blood. He'll dock your pay for it – _**if**_ you're lucky." He lowered his voice . . . a little. "Personally, I think if he doesn't see you in the next two minutes, you're probably going to be writing club employee rules 2, 3, and 5 two hundred times each – and then having to find yourself another job."

Sakamoto's next pause for breath left him time enough to notice there was someone else in the room. "Oho, so _**that's**_ what you've been doing in here, eh? I don't think he's going to like finding out you were hanging around with a girl, either – no offense, miss." This to the woman, who seemed to be embarrassed or something; she was hiding her face, anyway.

_You _baka – _you just left it there!_ Godai chided himself. Then he realized: _Wait – there __**was**_ _something more important I had to do. I guess I have to see if even this dummy will buy the truth as an explanation._ "You see, Sakamoto, Chigusa-_senshu_ lost something . . ."

"Chigusa-_senshu_? Yeah, right!" Sakamoto scoffed, rolling his eyes. Then those eyes snapped back involuntarily toward – "**Chigusa-**_**senshu**_**?**"

That earned him a double "_**Shhh!!**_" and Godai's hand over his mouth.

Silenced, he stared – seeing the most famous tennis star in Japan, in her most glamorous dress, sitting in the most homely room at the club. "_Suimasen_, Chigusa-_senshu_. I didn't recognize you."

"That's alright. I hope I didn't get your friend in trouble, though. I distracted him from his work, asking him to look for something for me and to help me stay away from the reporters. He was very kind, brought me here, and called a taxi to take me home." Kyôko felt guilty for walking over him at the press conference, and wanted to do something to make it up to him. Sure, he was a little clumsy, but he didn't deserve to be fired for it.

Godai could only look at her, dumbstruck that someone like Chigusa Kyôko was standing up for him.

"Well, we better find the manager soon or he may not be very forgiving, no matter what happened." Sakamoto grabbed Godai, rushing to leave. "Let's go back by way of the parking lot – he may not be quite as angry if he doesn't have to lose face for this in front of the guests."

"I'll come, too. It was my fault, after all." Kyôko picked up her purse and followed them through the lounge's outside door to the parking lot – just as a car pulled up.

"Your taxi." Relief and disappointment mixed in Godai's voice. But as he turned to wave her on to the vehicle, he saw her eyes filled with honest concern. "I can't just go – what about your boss?"

"It's fine, Sakamoto is exaggerating a bit. It was just an ice sculpture, after all." He smiled, not wanting to involve her any more. _It's my problem, not hers_.

"But it _**was**_ my fault you couldn't clean up the mess, at least." Kyôko was determined to take the blame. _After all, what would they do to me?_ "If I'd been paying more attention, I wouldn't have had to bother you. I'll talk to Mitaka-_shachô_ for you tomorrow."

"You don't have to –" Godai realized that he didn't have time to argue if his boss was as upset as Sakamoto made him out to be. _Besides . . ._ "It's more important that you get away from here without anybody _**else**_ finding out," and he shot another glare at Sakamoto.

"Well . . . _hontô ni arigatô gozaimasu._ Thank you very much again for all your help – really. _Tasukarimashita._" And Kyôko got in the taxi. The two waiters stood at the doorway as she rode off.

"You may yet dodge the bullet today, Godai. And boy, will you have a story to tell! So start practicing now – what were you two up to in there, anyways?" Sakamoto asked with a wink.

"Nothing! I just called her a taxi," Godai glared at him.

"I rush in here trying to save your job, find you in here with Chigusa Kyôko, and that's all you can say? That's all the thanks I get? A story that's over in two seconds? I don't know why I bother sometimes..."

"**That's all that happened!"** Godai shouted. "It's people like you who make a market for all those terrible rumors in the papers these days, you know," he accused. "I should never have called you to suggest that you apply to work at the party tonight." Then, still simmering, he added, "Besides, weren't we in a hurry?"

"Yeah . . ." Sakamoto knew he wouldn't be getting too much more info right now from Godai's time alone with Kyôko, so they jogged off together. "We have to find the manager, report in to him, and then go help clean up the conference room. Apparently a few of the guests had too much _sake_." He paused for a moment, then added, "It was nice of her to offer to call Mitaka-_shachô_ for you, though."

"Yeah," Godai sighed, slowing down a fraction. "Just think – she really _**is**_ like that. . . ."

"Hey, snap out of it, buddy! We've got some work to do before we sleep – or dream. But if you want something to think about while you're working, here's a question for you."

"What is it now, Sakamoto?"

"She heard you mention my name, but why didn't I hear her calling you by _**your**_ name?"

". . . . . ."

"Hey, are you okay? You'd better get ahold of yourself before the boss sees you stumbling like that. . . ."

_Aargh_, Godai thought succinctly as he picked himself up off the parking lot and ran to catch up with Sakamoto. _Why couldn't he have mentioned that __**before?**_ _Like when Chigusa-senshu was still here?! . . . All that time alone with her, actually having a real conversation – and still she doesn't even know my name?! That means . . . to her, I'm practically – a nobody. _

"Weren't you supposed to be my best friend?" Godai glared at him.

"Geeze, what did I do now?" Sakamoto sighed as he glared right back.

"Nothing. . . ." If he didn't know, it was probably no use trying to explain. "Let's just pick up the ice before we go back to see the boss. Maybe if we clean **that** up, we'll miss the clean-up inside. . . ."

"Well, I can't disagree with that logic." Sakamoto leaned down and stared picking up the bigger chunks and putting them back on the cart. "Hey, here's what the wheel caught on!"

Godai turned to his friend rather disinterested – until he saw what Sakamoto was holding up: a set of keys! The silvery keys glistened with the water from the melted ice like _senkô_ _hanabi_ ... _senkô_ _hanabi_ with – a chick!

"_**That's it!**_" Godai snatched the keys from Sakamoto's hands so quickly, he fell back onto the melting ice in surprise.

"Hey! Geeze, it's just a set of keys, calm down! We'll turn 'em into the office after . . ." Sakamoto stopped his rant when he saw the look in his friend's face. "So, _that's _what you were looking for, huh?"

"I have to give them to her. This is my chance." Godai gazed at them as if he'd just been given a bar of gold.

"Ummm, _I _have to give them to her; I found them. Besides," Sakamoto grinned, "at least she knows my name."

"I . . ." Godai grasped the keys closer, as if he were holding her hand.

"Oh, keep them. . . ." Sakamoto couldn't stand the pathetic look in his face. "But you owe me!"

"Yeah. . . ." Godai grinned sappily, staring at his ticket to see Kyoko-s...Chigusa-_senshu_ . . . once again.

"Hey, lover boy," Sakamoto pulled him from his almost-daydream. "You owe me, so you could at least help with the ice!"

*==*==*==*==*==*==*==*==*

The reporter made one more try at winding up the column.

Japan has longed for a world-beating tennis star since Shimidzu Zenzô almost brought home the Wimbledon men's title in 1920. We may have seen her on the court today – a hometown girl making very good indeed.

Off the court, I saw a young woman who's still just entering a strange new world. When that world's strangest strangers accosted her with their cameras, she looked as though she'd rather have spent the afternoon swinging a broom than a tennis racket.

Yes, everybody loves Kyôko. But do we love her for what she is? Or for what she can become? Or for what we want her to be?

Or can we love her enough to let her be when she asks us to?

_I guess that'll have to do. I can't explain her situation any better than that if I can't ask her to explain it to me. Besides, I can't blame everyone too much – I can understand how they feel._ The reporter saved the file, started the built-in printer, then stood up and stretched. _Better turn the fax machine on, so I can send this in to Mai-Asa headquarters and save myself a trip to deliver the disk._

By the time he came back across the darkened room, the last page was finishing. He got out his _hanko_, ready to stamp his symbol on it. _That's one good thing about writing for a living. You can at least pretend most people don't know who you are. And they don't mind. It's halfway to privacy – having a pen name._ He smiled, took the inked cap off the seal, and pressed down firmly.

_That's me. Anonymous. Nobody. Nothing._

Maru de 'nashi . . .

* * *

_Could these be the keys to Ky__ô__ko's heart? Will Mitaka charm our talented young tennis pro? Can Godai beat even stiffer odds than he faced in the "Real Rumic World"? Or could there be yet another man waiting in the wings? We have yet to write the chapters which will bridge these first seven to the four in Episode #3, but we hope they will also stand on their own for anyone who would like to read on. Either way, we would very much appreciate any and all reviews you may be willing to offer for this episode. We will work diligently to have Episode #2 of our story completed as soon as possible – so that you may enjoy the whole story in a more linear way._

_In the meantime, if you'd like to see the graphic we designed to go at the end of this story (but can't persuade the system to show you here), contact us and we'll tell you where it is._


	8. Episode 3, Part 1: Godai to the Rescue?

Before you continue on to this chapter, kind reader, please keep in mind the caveat we wrote at the end of the last chapter. We began this project with only a vague vision of how we wanted this world to differ as compared with Takahashi's original story, so we started with these next four chapters as one long story. When we came to the end, we realized that this was becoming something bigger than either of us had ever anticipated. As such, we started the previous 7 chapters as a backstory to this next section. We decided that, instead of taking this story offline until we finished the middle section connecting the two, our readers could look over the beginning to give us some feedback on our progress.

So, please read on, if you would like, because we would very much like you to enjoy what we've written. We would only ask you to keep in mind the fact that the last chapter does not lead into this one and there are plenty of disconnected plotlines which we have yet to piece together. Still, these last few chapters can be enjoyed on their own and we would love to hear your feedback on them.

**Alternate Rumic World MI-1: Ace **_**no Ikkoku**_  
[an offshoot from the **Variations on a "Them"** thread of Furinkan's "Rumic World" discussion board]

by **RyogasGirl** & **jalp**

(Not that we _**own**_ these characters! They belong to Takahashi-_sensei_ and whoever she says.  
We've just enjoyed finding a few new ways for these people to make things _**interesting**_. . . .)

_

* * *

Imagine there's no Sôichirô teaching at her high school. Perhaps young Chigusa Kyôko isn't as distracted from her studies. Or maybe she puts her extra time and energy into her tennis._

_She was good in the RRW (Real Rumic World). In this ARW timeline, she's better. Good enough to shine in some local tournaments – to dream of qualifying for the professional tour._

_And then she catches the eye of a certain male pro. . . .  


* * *

  
_

**Episode #3****: Take a **_***Bau***_**, Godai-**_**Kun**_

**Chapter 1:** Godai to the Rescue(?)  
Shun Mitaka, the undisputed star of Japanese professional tennis, waited patiently in his sporty Nissan Silvia with that air of confidence only he possessed. He'd been looking forward to this day for quite some time. If he felt nervous at all, it sure didn't show. _Why should it? I never had the jitters before any of my other big matches._ And he smiled to himself at the way he'd phrased the thought.

The smile broadened a bit, showing his famous teeth, as he saw Chigusa-_senshu_ driving up in her Subaru Rex. Then he shook his head. _No – today's the day she becomes __Kyôko-_san.

She hadn't been a pro for long enough to get used to having money – or an image to maintain. And yet Chigusa-_senshu_, squeezed into that designed-for-commuters _kei_-car, was somehow more breathtaking than any other woman Mitaka had seen. Even Akemi, the _aidoru_ model-actress-singer he'd been seeing – or rather been seen with – for the past year or more, couldn't compare . . . despite her provocative outfits, and a car even sexier than his own.

On the other hand, reporters seemed to attach themselves to Akemi, following her around like lost puppies. Some of that was because of how often she was attached to him, Mitaka knew; he was a bigger star than she was these days. But another reason was that Akemi was only too happy to be the center of the shot whenever she saw the glint of a camera lens. Unlike some other celebrities. And definitely unlike Kyôko-_san_.

True to her nature, Akemi was off at a photo shoot today; he'd checked with her agent to make sure of the schedule. So it was time for him to make his appearance here. And he knew it was a good one as he got out of his rather sportier model, dodging a few puddles left over from the rain that morning. Was that why the air seemed a little fresher at the moment? Or was it that he had a date – in all but name, at least – with Kyôko-_san_? Oh, she'd seen him being impressive on the court often enough . . . but now she was going to find out what he looked like when he was _**really**_ dressed to impress.

He'd set this day up carefully. _It just so happened that we'd parked next to each other here at the club yesterday. And I just happened to be at my car when she was walking toward her car after practice and saying good-bye to her Tour-assigned matron, that gossipy Ichinose woman._ What could have been more natural than that he would invite her to join him for lunch the next day, so they could discuss the upcoming mixed-doubles tournament?

Of course, she agreed. After all, Mitaka was the more experienced player. He'd been on the pro Tour for several years. And one of the skills that had helped him rise in the rankings was his talent for strategy and tactics. _A really good gamesman must be able to look three and four plays ahead._ Maybe even to think about more than one game at a time. . . .

_And now that ability is going to pay off in a love game_, Mitaka thought – _with a little help from a family connection._ Uncle Yentarô and he shared a strong interest in attracting the opposite sex, and an almost unconscious habit for wooing them. His uncle had been a ready source of inside information and advice based on years of experience – he'd never steered Shun wrong. _That's why, when I started planning this first non-date, I took Uncle's suggestion of a luncheon spot which would offer us enough privacy without seeming designed only for intimacy – though it could accommodate that, too._

He knew Chigusa-_senshu_ didn't feel comfortable yet when besieged by fans – and he still remembered her reaction to her first _paparazzi_ assault. Fortunately, Ichinose-_san_ hadn't been too far away to reach her and escort her out of there. _Clear a path out of the room, more like. Too bad I wasn't closer to Kyôko-_san_ myself at the time._ And Tour security chief Yotsuya had stepped in from out of nowhere and pulled the cameraman aside. And those photos never had come out in public, thank goodness.

His timing as impeccable as his outfit, Mitaka strode over to the minicar just as Chigusa-_senshu_ was finished parking. _At least the car's new_, he thought – _and the windows are thoroughly tinted. A wise precaution for someone as famous as she's just beginning to be. So much to look forward to together._ But why was the car shaking? And what was she saying? "_**No**_, I tell you! Sôi–"

Mitaka hurried to open the door, and help her out of the car – and whatever was happening in there —

— and the next thing he knew, he was on the ground. His back was wet – well, that made some sense; he must have landed in a poodle, er, puddle. But why had his mind seized on such a terrible pun? And why was his face wet, too? With growing horror, he realized – that wasn't rainwater . . . it was slobber.

_Oh, no . . . a d-dog. A __b-b-big__ d-d-dog. . . ._

_**She brought her **__**dog!**__** . . .**_

"Oh – I'm _**so**_ sorry, Mitaka-_san_!" He could hear Chigusa-_senshu_ saying something, but the words weren't getting through his panic yet. "**Behave** yourself, Sôichirô-_san_! It's just that they're airing out all the _tatami_ mats at my apartment building today, and the old superintendent won't let Sôichirô-_san_ stay in the yard alone, so I was hoping we'd be able to go to an outdoor café where Sôichirô-_san_ could join us! . . . I told you to get _**down!**_ _**Bad**_ dog! Really, Mitaka-_san_, he's just showing that he likes you! . . ."

_He likes me . . . aha-ha-ha . . . that's not who I wanted to hear that from today. . . ._

Mitaka got up, brushing himself off and cautiously backing away at the same time, hoping she wouldn't hear his voice shaking as he managed to half-gasp, half-stammer out, "I-i-it's o-okay, I-I-I'm fine. . . ."

Then his brain started working again – mostly on trying to figure out a way to salvage the day. _Can I ask somebody in the office to watch the dog?_ No, he decided – they'd all want to know too much about why. Worse yet, some of the people might recognize the dog, and figure they knew why. And the word would get out – and the press would be on their trail – and gone would be any chance for that private lunch for two he needed to make real progress with Kyôko-_san_. Mitaka knew he was riding this train of thought several stops beyond where almost anyone else would get off, but the perpetual strategist inside him would have it no other way.

And then Mitaka saw him – just the person who could punch his ticket to paradise today. _That kid who's always hanging around the club, doing whatever odd jobs there were to do. Nobody'd listen to a tip from him, anyway._ Yeah. The big gofer, they called him around the Tour office . . . Go-Dai. _Well, this is definitely an odd enough job for him. And a dirty one, too,_ he added, looking down at the mess the dog had made of his third-best suit. _Yep, a dirty job – and somebody has to do it. Godai-_kun_? . . . you're elected._

*==*==*==*==*==*==*==*==*

Godai was hanging around at loose ends . . . and the biggest loose end was the end of the part-time job Kozue-_chan_ had found and told him about, as a club gofer. Some days they'd had him helping out at the Public Information Office – near her, which always made her smile. Maybe that had been her intention in suggesting the job in the first place. (Sometimes that thought made him happy, sometimes it made him nervous. Sometimes both.) Other days he just did stupid stuff like running cold water out to the court – bottles to the umpire, the line judges, and the athletes. Sometimes, when there were VIPs watching a match, he'd catch glimpses of someone famous as he ran pitchers of ice water up to the luxury boxes.

Of course, work like that wouldn't engage his imagination – and his mind had a tendency to wander. And when it did, so did his footsteps. Of course, this morning his path _***would***_ have to carry him past the court where Chigusa-_senshu_ was practicing. It was amazing how often that happened. Equally "of course", the ice he'd been carrying to the luxury boxes had all melted – something neither the VIPs nor the club's manager seemed to appreciate in the least. One or two of the dirty-minded old men who'd been watching her too had noticed, and had tried to get his attention. But by the time they'd gotten Godai's mind back on his work and out of his daydreams, the ice had melted – and the possibility of him keeping his job had evaporated.

Oh, but what daydreams. In his fantasies, Chigusa-_senshu_ knew who he was – and he wasn't afraid to call her by her first name without being too drunk to stand. A simple fantasy, but oh so fulfilling. If only he could say that name; it ached to escape his lips: Kyôko-_san_ . . . Kyôko . . . K- . . . _Kozue._ He sighed inwardly. _I'm going to have to tell Kozue-_chan _eventually. Hopefully before she hears the news from someone else._

But while he was trying to think of an explanation for being fired (or, better yet, an excuse) – and to decide whether he was looking for Kozue-_chan_ or for a chance to get away from the club without talking to her at all – he suddenly noticed there was someone standing right in front of him. Was it Kozue?

No. His luck, as usual, was even worse than that. It was the glitter king of the courts himself, that idiot Mitaka. Why women couldn't see right through him, Godai would never know – unless they were just blinded by his teeth.

And yet the proud pro, who'd scarcely said two words to him before – other than "Thanks for the towel, kid" or "Oh, are you still here?" – seemed to be talking to him like a normal person. Asking him a question.

"Hey – Godai-_kun_, isn't it? Do you have time to look after that dog for us? I'll make it worth your while." Mitaka walked quickly up to the kid (and away from the dog, away from the dog!) – holding a couple thousand yen in one hand and gesturing back over his shoulder with the other.

Godai gave himself a mental shake, and focused on the situation in front of him. He noticed Mitaka wasn't his usual pristine self at the moment. Evidently the dog he was talking about had greeted him very enthusiastically, messing up a non-tennis outfit that probably cost more than half of Godai's wardrobe put together. (_Good for you, dog,_ he thought with a grim inward grin.) And Mitaka seemed to be quivering a bit still at the encounter – from anger? Surprise? Mirth? Godai couldn't tell.

But those bills he was holding out weren't too messy to spend. _And I could really use the money – especially now that I'm not going to be getting any from the club anymore._ Still, he wasn't exactly in the best mood to take orders – and from Mitaka, of all people.

But before he could figure out what he was going to say, he was interrupted by a vigorous _***Bau*!**_ And as he turned his head to look at the dog . . . he saw who "we" meant.

"Yes, it's Chigusa-_senshu_'s dog," Mitaka confirmed, noticing Godai's gaze move away from him. Turning to her himself, he asked: "What was your dog's name again?"

"Sôichirô-_san_," Kyôko said, and started walking the enthusiastic pooch towards the two men. "Godai-_san_, was it? Could you watch him for a while this afternoon? It would be a big help!"

Chigusa-_senshu_ . . . or (did he dare even think it?) Kyôko-_san_! She was talking to him . . . she knew his name . . . she was coming closer to him! And if that much of his daydreams was going to come true, it seemed only natural that an obstacle like Mitaka would back out of the way as she did. Who cared about him, anyway?

"S-sure . . . I-I'd be delighted to help . . . honored! . . ." Godai almost shook with excitement, even as he raised his hand for the leash unconsciously in a hazy, trance-like state.

_What is it about Sôichirô-_san_ that makes men around here shake?_ Kyôko wondered for a moment. _Oh, well, we need to get going._ "Great! Thank you . . . it's really very kind of you," she told the young man. As she handed over the leash, a few of her fingers brushed softly by his.

Godai tingled, then got a better grip on the leash – and on himself, too. "You can count on me," he promised, squatting down to skritch the dog behind the ears. "We'll meet you right here. Uh – when do you expect to be back from your date?"

"Oh," Kyôko demurred, "we're not going on a date." Was that a slight blush? Or had Godai just imagined it, seen what he hoped to see? "We're just going to have a nice lunch, and discuss our strategies for the next tournament – "

"And maybe take a walk in the park, or down by the river, while we talk," Mitaka finished smoothly. He'd slipped the cash in Godai's free hand somehow, and then gone back to the car, while Kyôko had talked Godai into the favor. Holding the door open for her, he added, "But we'll be back before five o'clock – today."

Something about that pause bothered Godai. In fact, everything about that pause bothered him. But before he could figure out whether he had the right – or the guts – to raise the issue, Kyôko was in her seat and the door had closed. The dog gave her a parting _***Bau*!**_ as Mitaka hurried around to the far side of the car and got in.

_You_ aho_, you!_ Godai raged at himself. _Can't you be at least as polite as a __**dog**__ to your dream girl?_ He rushed to speak up – luckily, Mitaka seemed to be having some trouble starting the car. "We'll see you later!" Then the engine roared to life – and Godai had only just enough time in the lull after that roar to blurt out a question that had suddenly occurred to him.

"_**Why**_ is the dog called –"

But Mitaka was definitely in a hurry to get away from there and off to that lunch. "And have Kyôko-_san_ all to himself, too," Godai grumbled to himself. _She probably didn't even hear me. Oh, well, I'd better start earning this money . . . and maybe a bit of respect at the same time._

Still . . . "Pretty strange name for a dog," he said to himself. Then he decided it was a little less crazy to talk to the dog. "Okay, Sôichirô-_san_, tell me everything you know about Chigusa-_senshu_. And you can start with what she thinks of that idiot you were just with – hey!" Sôichirô-_san_ started to pull him along, apparently bored with the topic. "Dummy! I'm talking to you! . . ."

"Do you often get answers when you interrogate dogs, Gofer-_kun_?" came a familiar, dreaded voice from behind him.

"Yotsuya-_san_!!" Then, as surprise and panic gave way to the constant irritation: "And my name is Godai!!"

*==*==*==*==*==*==*==*==*

_

* * *

Thank you for reading! Please let us know what you think -- then please go on reading. . . ._


	9. Ep3 Pt2: Much Ado About Oh, Nothing!

**Alternate Rumic World MI-1: Ace **_**no Ikkoku**_  
[an offshoot from the **Variations on a "Them"** thread of Furinkan's "Rumic World" discussion board]

by **RyogasGirl** & **jalp**

(Not that we _**own**_ these characters! They belong to Takahashi-_sensei_ and whoever she says.  
We've just enjoyed finding a few new ways for these people to make things _**interesting**_. . . .)

_

* * *

Imagine there's no Sôichirô teaching at her high school. Perhaps young Chigusa Kyôko isn't as distracted from her studies. Or maybe she puts her extra time and energy into her tennis._

_She was good in the RRW (Real Rumic World). In this ARW timeline, she's better. Good enough to shine in some local tournaments – to dream of qualifying for the professional tour._

_And then she catches the eye of a certain male pro. . . .  


* * *

_

**Episode #3****: Take a **_***Bau***_**, Godai-**_**Kun**_

**  
Chapter 2:** Much Ado About . . . Oh, Nothing!  
Kyôko had heard the young man's question before the car zoomed out of range. And, although she was listening while Mitaka explained that he'd picked their luncheon spot based partly on the chance it would give them for a little privacy while they talked about their likely first- and second-round opponents in the upcoming tournament, some of her attention was still on that question.

_And on the young man, too?_ Kyôko pondered, as Mitaka's voice gradually merged with the traffic noise. _No – it's just that, somehow, he asked about the dog's name as if he really wanted to know._ Mitaka-_senshu_ had never shown that kind of interest in Sôichirô-_san_; in fact, they'd never met before today, though she'd told each of the men in her life about the other. _And I am glad to see that Sôichirô-_san_ likes Mitaka-_senshu_ so much._

_The men in my life, huh?_ A professional playing partner and a dog. _Better not let Mother hear that I think of them as equals,_ Kyôko chided herself. _Still, in a way, they are . . . competing for my attention._

Kyôko didn't feel comfortable yet telling anyone else exactly why the dog was named Sôichirô-_san_ . . . but it was a story she knew by heart. Which was hardly surprising, since that's where the story had been written.

*==*==*==*==*==*==*==*==*

It started when she lost her beloved grandfather, shortly after she graduated from qualifying school – and just before she was due to take part in her first pro tournament.

For some reason, Kyôko and her mother hadn't gotten along since about the time she chose to go to qualifying school rather than follow a more normal educational track toward a normal family life – getting married and having grandchildren, in other words. Lots of words. Over and over. She couldn't understand how Mother could be so stubborn about that.

Relations with her father weren't much better. She loved tennis – but all Father could see about it was that she was bound to get hurt, one way or another. "It's hard enough for a man to protect his only daughter from the heartache of marrying a man who's not good enough for her," he'd told her once – the only time he'd been willing to talk about the situation at all reasonably. "But if you go out there on those hard courts to play against professionals – even men, sometimes! – how could I possibly do my duty as a father and keep you safe then? No! I won't permit it!!"

So she'd moved out, as soon as she officially was a professional herself. She'd had to. The apartment she found wasn't anything fancy, but it was exactly what she wanted. It was cozy. It was unfashionable and out of the way – which kept it fairly private. It was close to the tennis club, but not so handy that everyone else in her building was bound to play tennis – or recognize a young pro player.

Most important, it was hers. Her parents never visited . . . _the one __**good**__ side-effect of having the sports press hounding me so often_, Kyôko reflected. In fact, she and her parents almost never talked any more, and that had been fine with her.

It was her grandpa she could really talk to . . . about anything and everything. _And then, suddenly, I couldn't._

At the graveside, her mother started to pick yet another quarrel about Kyôko's budding tennis career. She turned her back, took a deep breath, and prepared to walk away covering her ears and shouting _**"Urusai!"**_ _Not that Mother would have shut up, of course._ But before she could block off all outside sounds, one broke through.

_***Bau*!**_

There before her eyes was one of the scruffiest dogs she'd ever seen. His fluffy white fur was terribly mussed, with bits tangled up and mud staining his paws and stomach. Even if he got a thorough cleaning and brushing, she felt, it wouldn't last; unkemptness seemed to be bred into him, part of his very nature.

And yet, getting past the negative first impression, Kyôko felt drawn to this bright-eyed, energetic dog. He just seemed too familiar to ignore. There was something a bit gruff around the edges but unmistakably friendly, even loving, about the voice, the bright eyes, and the – well, you'd have to say smile. It all reminded her of . . .

"Grandpa?" she whispered, not knowing exactly where she was directing the question. But the dog answered with another bark, and kept on wagging its – his – bushy tail. He brushed up against her for a moment, then started trotting off down the path – as if somehow sure she would follow. She did.

They'd been practically inseparable ever since. (Except for that one time when he'd dashed off after someone who passed too close by with a fresh order of _yakitori_. And he'd come home eventually that evening, knowing he'd been wrong to go but not entirely apologetic.) And Kyôko had named him after her grandpa – using, not his real name, but the nickname she'd given him to tell him he was all things in one person to her: Sôichirô-_san_.

*==*==*==*==*==*==*==*==*

". . . I think that pair will be the toughest, so I've taped some of their matches off –" Mitaka stopped abruptly when he noticed Kyôko staring blankly out the window with her back to him. "Chigusa-_senshu_ . . . Chigu- . . . Kyôko?"

Kyôko jumped when she heard her name, and turned to Mitaka. "Ah – _sumimasen_. What were you saying?"

"It's not important. Are you worn out from practice this morning? You didn't have to squeeze in that workout so early. You could have told me; we could have met later." Mitaka could tell something was bothering her, so he tried to find out what was on her mind in the most nonchalant way possible.

"No, no. I was just thinking about Sôichirô-_san_." Well, it was the truth, what she was telling Mitaka. It just wasn't the whole truth.

"Who? Oh, the dog. Yeah, that kid Godai will do just fine – been with the organization for years. He'll take care of the dog like it's his own kid." Mitaka smiled, his trademark glint at full strength. Okay, so he had no idea if that was true. _But come on, how hard is it to make sure a dog doesn't run off – or get run over?_ Not that it wouldn't be simpler – and cheaper – if the dog weren't in his way any more, of course. _But she'd be upset_, responded his built-in planner. _For who knows how long. Not the best way to start off a professional or personal relationship._ He sighed – inside. Outwardly, his smile never wavered.

"Yes, he seemed alright." Kyôko smiled back, remembering her grandfather and the upcoming tournament – and, more importantly, what the tournament would have meant to him. She decided to focus on the games ahead. After all, she did want to take in all of the information her more experienced partner could provide.

"Well, we're here," Mitaka announced. The restaurant definitely catered to an upscale clientele; it even had its own dedicated surface parking, less than a block away. He expertly swung the Silvia into a conveniently open space which seemed only barely big enough. Then he quickly got out to open the door for Kyôko, joking, "It seems we'll have to walk a little; the city is crowded this time of day."

"I don't mind." Kyôko took Mitaka's hand to step onto the sidewalk.

Just as she had one foot out of the car, a small shih-tzu pulled away from its inattentive master and ran behind Mitaka, yapping loudly. He felt his body move on its own as he almost leapt on top of a very surprised Kyôko, carrying them both partway back into the car, and clung to her for dear life.

Kyôko froze, turning red at the sudden apparent sign of affection. "What are you doing?" she asked, feeling a bit foolish since the answer seemed so obvious – but confused by the fact that he was simply holding her in this enthusiastic embrace.

"I . . . I tripped on the curb," Mitaka finally said, hoping she could hear his excuse over the sharp _kyan-kyan_ still ringing in his ears. But it was dawning on him that this wasn't quite an explanation as to why he was still holding on to her.

"Shiro, Shiro! Get back here!" The dog's owner pulled the pooch away, oblivious to the commotion it had caused.

"Mitaka-_san_!" Kyôko managed to push him up only slightly. "Shun, **please!**"

Kyôko's shouts finally shook Mitaka back to reality. Realizing the awkwardness of his current position, he quickly pulled himself back out of the car.

"_Taihen shitsurei shimashita!_ I – it must be these new shoes, I . . ." Mitaka quickly blurted out, desperately trying to cover up his crippling phobia and regain his composure at the same time.

"It's clear now why you wanted me to come with you today, but I just don't want a relationship. I thought we could focus on our partnership – our professional partnership. That's what's important to me right now," Kyôko said firmly as she, too, pulled herself together.

"No, truly, it was an accident. I would never intentionally force you to – please . . . Chigusa-_senshu_. . . ." He offered his hand once again.

Kyôko took him in, noticing his unkempt and frazzled demeanor – so unlike his normal, confident self. Despite her reservations about the dubious excuse he'd offered her, she decided that Mitaka seemed sincere enough at the moment and took his hand. _Maybe I overreacted, after all._

"Well, then, let's go in, have a nice lunch, and discuss our strategies for the next tournament."

"_Hai_," Mitaka agreed. _Sometimes you have to know when to concede a point – and start playing for the next one._

*==*==*==*==*==*==*==*==*

_Boy, if my grandmother could see me now. . . ._ Godai shuddered. _Yeah, _bâ-chan_, you always used to warn me about falling in with bad companions when I went to the big city – so why didn't you tell me how to __**avoid**__ them while you were at it?_

First, that pervert of a security chief had latched onto him. _He's worse than Mitaka at getting away with things. How does he hold onto his job? And how does he always manage to find me when I have a bit of money, or food, or something else he can mooch off of me?_

Sure enough, Yotsuya-_san_ had toed up to the mark right away. "Say, Gofer-_kun_, isn't this Chigusa-_senshu_'s dog?"

"Yeah, it is. **He** is. Why do you ask? And why can't you get my name right for once?!"

"Oh, yes, you're right, of course, I _**should**_ remember that – you're so **big** for a gofer." Then Yotsuya switched back to bad cop. "But don't change the subject, Gofer-_kun_. How did this dog come to be in your hands?"

"Look, I'm no dognapper, if that's what you're thinking! It so happens that she asked me to look after him for a few hours, and Mitaka-_senshu_'s pay–" Godai stopped his tongue . . . but a syllable too late.

"Oho! I _see_. . . ." And undoubtedly Yotsuya did see those ¥1,000 notes – Godai hadn't had a chance to pocket them yet. "Well, well, Godai-_kun_, we must get some beer and find a nice quiet spot where we can celebrate and you can tell me more about this good fortune of yours!"

"_**What**_ good fortune?! I'm only doing this because I lost my job here at the club today!" _**Now**__ he gets my name right. Figures._ But Godai would be darned if he was going to let Yotsuya have this cash – the last bit of extra cash he'd be earning for awhile.

"Well, then, let's go get some beer and find a nice quiet spot where I can console you on that _**mis**_fortune. And in return – you'll treat me, right?"

Godai had to hand it to Yotsuya, though. (And not just because he'd usually find a way to get anything out of Godai anyway.) He really did seem to know the best place on the club's grounds to have a quiet gathering. But it didn't stay quiet for long. . . .

"Hey, Yotsuya-_san_! Y'seen Chigusa-_senshu_? I'm supposed to – oh, I guess you have! Isn't that her dog? And you got Gofer-_kun_ with you, too! I had to go pick up my kid after his cram-school session this morning, and the office wanted me back here so I could be with her if she was going somewhere with her new partner Mitaka today. You know the Tour – they love publicity, but only the kind the sponsors love too! So, is this a private party or can anybody join in? **Waha-ha-ha-ha!**"

_Oh, the laugh heard 'round the world. Not much chance of breaking through __**that**__ sound barrier to remind her what my name is._ Godai had spent enough time on the fringes of Kyôko-_san_'s ("You mean Chigusa-_senshu_," a more cautious part of his brain protested – and was promptly stifled) daily life to recognize the voice of her chaperone. Or "matron", as Kozue-_chan_ had explained to him the Tour insisted on calling the older women. _Well, whatever her title, her name describes her perfectly._ Ichinose – one rapid talker. And one boisterous laugher. And as if that wasn't enough, she was as irrepressible a partier and drinker as Yotsuya himself – which surprised Godai a bit.

Today being Saturday, she had her grade-school-age son in tow. He looked likely to turn out as short as his mother had, but he was a bit more . . . sane? Sensible? Sober? Well, in the literal sense, surely. How could he not be? But little Kentarô-_kun_ wasn't too young to have been touched by "Chigusa fever"; he'd brought a poster along, and was clearly bearing with the utter embarrassment of being stuck there with his mother in the hope of getting it signed.

_At least the brat doesn't gab as much as his mother. Kinda reminds me of myself at that age, come to think of it. Something about the eyes says he's gone through a bunch already in his life. Well, sorry, fella, I can't tell you it's going to get any easier._ Godai looked around. _It sure hasn't for me._

"Can I help you hold him?" The boy ran up to Sôichirô-_san_, who seemed just as happy to see him.

But Godai snatched the leash away. "_**Whoops**_ – just a moment, kid! How much have you grown in the past week?"

"What do you mean?"

"I remember what happened the _**last**_ time you were trying to hold on to him." How could Godai forget? It had taken four wash cycles before the paw prints even started to fade from that club-uniform vest. _Not that that matters now, of course. . . ._ "Sorry, kid, you've got to be this tall to ride the ride. Come back next year."

Stung, Kentarô shot back, "_**You**_ don't care about Sôichirô-_san_, _**you**_ just want her to notice you!" Then, seeing his accusation hit home, he went on: "You must not like her very much, anyway – you haven't even got her _**poster!**_"

Godai was preparing a crushing retort, when – _wait a minute. The kid knows her dog. Could he –? It's a long shot, but . . ._ "Say, kid," he said as casually as he could manage, "you know what Chigusa-_senshu_ calls this dog?"

"Sure," Kentarô said almost scornfully. "He's Sôichirô-_san_!"

"Yeah, yeah – but now, do you know **why** she calls him that?"

The kid thought for a moment – two – then looked up at him with a sardonic grin several years too old for him and asked, as if reciting a straight line: "No, why?"

"It's not a **riddle**, kid! _**I**_ don't know the answer; I thought _**you**_ would!"

"Nope – all I know is it's a pretty strange name for a dog." And he bent down to pat Sôichirô-_san_, dismissing Godai from his view.

_Why, you little brat, I oughta –_ But here came a new distraction . . . a more grown-up distraction.

"Yo, Yotsuya-_san_! Hey, have you seen Mitaka-_senshu_ lately? Say, that's his partner's dog, isn't it? And there's the chaperone, too. Hiya, Ichinose-_san_! Don'tcha think he's spending too much time with her these days? Couldn't she at least share him with me a bit more? Besides, he knows he can get a broader spectrum of endorsement deals if he's seen with me!"

_The Fabulous Akemi._ For all Godai knew, she might have trademarked the phrase. Her vampish good looks and always-obvious figure were quite a trademark themselves. But those assets had been around for a few years, and were starting to depreciate. And he'd read somewhere that her work habits – or lack of them – had dissipated the goodwill value of the trademark somewhat, too. Judging by her outfit now, her neckline had evidently taken the plunge, hoping to keep her popularity from doing the same. "Did you say someone needed consoling, Yotsuya-_san_?"

"Well, yes and no, it seems. This young man – you may have seen him around the club –" _Great_, thought Godai. _Yotsuya-_san_'s only too happy to offer up any and all information he has about me. And what __**she'll**__ do with it –_

"Oh, **Gofer-**_**kun**_**!** Yeah, I missed you taking your usual sneak peeks today when you come up on deck to the sponsor's box. Saving up for a better look now, eh?"

Godai was blushing too hard to do more than sputter a protest this time. But Yotsuya continued undeterred: "Now, now, Akemi-_san_, he has asked us to call him Godai, and I think the flattery might encourage him."

"Huh? Ohhh, I get it! You think maybe he'll grow up out of being just a big gofer, and live to be an actual man."

"Exactly. Now, then, earlier today, Gofer-_kun_ (I beg your pardon, it just fits you so well!) – that is, Go**dai**-_kun_ had some good news and some bad news. . . ."

Fending off more uproarious laughter from Ichinose-_san_, Godai snarled back: "_**You're**_ the worst news I've had all day!!"

"Now, now, Gofer-_kun_, I don't know what's up with you, but I can see you need to relax – loosen your grip. . . ." And Akemi insinuated herself even further toward Godai's position in the small circle that had formed. "Would you like some help with that?"

"Huh? What? Hey! No! Um –" said Godai, expressing quite accurately his feelings at that moment . . . even if only by accident. He ooched away and, realizing he should have a grip on something, reached for the dog's leash again. A safe choice in many respects – but it did leave his beer unguarded. . . .

*==*==*==*==*==*==*==*==*

* * *

_Thank you again for reading more! We'd still like to know what you think -- and we hope you want to keep on reading. . . ._


	10. Episode 3, Part 3: All I Wanna Do

**Alternate Rumic World MI-1: Ace **_**no Ikkoku**_  
[an offshoot from the **Variations on a "Them"** thread of Furinkan's "Rumic World" discussion board]

by **RyogasGirl** & **jalp**

(Not that we _**own**_ these characters! They belong to Takahashi-_sensei_ and whoever she says.  
We've just enjoyed finding a few new ways for these people to make things _**interesting**_. . . .)

_

* * *

Imagine there's no Sôichirô teaching at her high school. Perhaps young Chigusa Kyôko isn't as distracted from her studies. Or maybe she puts her extra time and energy into her tennis._

_She was good in the RRW (Real Rumic World). In this ARW timeline, she's better. Good enough to shine in some local tournaments – to dream of qualifying for the professional tour._

_And then she catches the eye of a certain male pro. . . .  


* * *

_

**Episode #3****: Take a **_***Bau***_**, Godai-**_**Kun**_

**Chapter 3:** All I Wanna Do . . .  
Before Godai knew what was happening, or how it had happened, the nice little picnic-like outing had turned into the neighborhood-waking party from hell. Worse yet, it was the middle of the afternoon! . . .

At this point, he was only too glad that Kozue _**wasn't**_ here. He could just imagine her surrounded by this bunch of bananas. She'd probably cling to him all the closer. And if Kyôko-_san_ came back expecting to see him holding onto her dog – and found him instead being held by his not-exactly-girlfriend. . . .

_Oh, geez. It must be getting late. Didn't she say they'd be back by five? Or was it Mitaka who said that?_ "Um, does anyone have a watch? What time is it?" Godai started to get up, clumsily knocking over a few empties in the attempt. He hadn't indulged nearly as much as the others . . . _but then, who could have?_

Kentarô was the only entirely sober one among them – for obvious reasons. He glanced at his watch and answered, "It's 4:47."

That sobered Godai up somewhat. He pushed aside just enough of the mess to make room for another hasty scramble to his feet . . . this time through a sudden tangle of reaching, restraining arms. "I've – we've got to go! Chigusa-_senshu_ may be waiting for u – er, looking for her dog!"

"And we'll all go with you – so we can tell her how carefully you guarded him from all us bad influences," teased Akemi, leaning back slowly and polishing off her current can.

"And wouldn't let him have any of our beer," added Ichinose, most unhelpfully.

"Not that we minded terribly having more left for us," Yotsuya pointed out.

They did accompany him back to the parking lot, though they lagged a bit behind. Fortunately for Godai, this once at least it seemed his luck wasn't the totally horrible kind. The group quieted down enough on the way to avoid raising any eyebrows – and even their kidding stopped when they saw Mitaka-_senshu_'s Silvia pulling up to the curb to drop Chigusa-_senshu_ off.

"Thank you," she said as he held the door open for her. "It was nice to have some fairly quiet time to just talk about tennis. Though I _**am**_ sorry about that suit," she added.

"Ha-ha-ha, don't worry about it – that's why we have dry-cleaners," chuckled Mitaka. His gleam seemed to have been restored.

"I really should have him apologize to you, you know. Look! You can see he wants to come say hello!"

Mitaka did look. And he could see – only too clearly. He could also see the little group gathered around the dog and the kid who'd been watching him. _Oh, great. The gossipy chaperone, that creepy security chief, and Tropical Depression Akemi building up into a major storm. __**Just**__ the people I wanted to be here to watch this parting scene. And the dog's actually pulling that kid over here. I've got to get out of here. Oh, well . . . _shô ga nai_, I guess. No show today, folks._

"No, no, that's all right – I've got to go – to go meet my uncle!" he improvised, knowing it was a believable excuse for both of his female partners. "We have some business to discuss. Maybe we can talk about some way to help you take care of your dog while we're on Tour," he added, nodding quickly in Kyôko's direction. As he backed around to his side of the car again, he gave out another glinting smile – before his phobia got its dander up, and the sparkle gave out completely. "See you all later! . . ."

"Well, ain't ya going to thank Gofer-_kun_ here for watching your dog?" Ichinose piped up, barely loud enough to be heard in Okinawa.

"Um, yes . . . thank you, Godai-_kun_," Mitaka mumbled with an almost imperceptible bow, still inching his way uncomfortably to the safety of his car. "But he is Chigusa-_senshu_'s dog."

"By the way you're acting, we'd never know," Akemi sneered.

"Well, once I get to know him . . . well, I'm very late, I'll see you tomorrow, Chigusa-_senshu_." Mitaka bristled at that last comment, but managed to flash a half-strength smile and wave as he sped off. _Why in the world did I say that? Get to know him? I can't even look at him._ Then that strategist inside spoke to him: _You know you always freeze up when dogs are around . . . next time, you'd probably do better not to say anything at all!_

As Mitaka roared away, Godai could tell the gang of three-and-a-half behind him were murmuring over something they'd seen. It had seemed a bit odd, almost as if Mitaka had wanted to get away from Kyôko-_sa_ . . . _no, Chigusa-_senshu_, Chigusa-_senshu_!_ he mentally corrected himself. _Better not get in the habit of thinking of her that way all the time – I might forget myself and call her by her first name without asking permission. Walking someone's dog for a couple of hours isn't exactly like spending hours together with that person every day, after all. Lucky stiff, Mitaka – doesn't know how lucky he is. In fact, __**nobody**__ knows how lucky __**he**__ is. . . ._

He might have gone on woolgathering . . . if a more important dream hadn't interrupted him.

"I really do want to thank you for taking such good care of Sôichirô-_san_," the dream told him.

"And we helped!" said Ichinose-_san_, in passable phonetic Southern US English imitating a recently-imported TV commercial.

"In fact," Kyôko went on, "I think Mitaka-_senshu_'s idea was a good one. Everyone who works with the Tour keeps telling me I need some people of my own – people who take care of my needs, so I can focus on my tennis. Well, my heart tells me I need to have Sôichirô-_san_ with me. And the more I think about it, the more I realize that having someone watching over Sôichirô-_san_ would be the only safe way to keep him with me on Tour."

She paused, took a breath, smiled, and moved a step closer to the young man – who stood transfixed.

"Gofer-_san_ . . . _**Oh!**_ Oh, I'm _**terribly**__** sorry!**_" she cried over Ichinose's raucous whoops and back-up laughter from the other two partiers. "Go**dai**-_san_, Go**dai**-_san_! . . . oh, I'll never forget your name now!" she promised the visibly deflated youth. "Please . . . let me try that again," she said and stepped back, clearing her throat and folding her hands for a moment.

"Foot-in-mouth fault . . . second service," intoned Umpire Yotsuya.

"Godai-_san_." A deep breath. "I need someone to help me keep Sôichirô-_san_ in my life as I start going out on Tour. Would you be that someone for me?"

Godai couldn't believe his ears.

Neither could Ichinose-_san_. "I've never seen anything that red before," she stage-whispered to Akemi.

"Yeah. Hey, look, we match!" Akemi lazily held a lock of her hair up to Godai, giggling at her revelation.

But it was Yotsuya who broke the silence. "Well, that breaks the tie – it's _**definitely**_ a celebration now. Eh, young Dogwalker?"

The shorter question – combined with a good, hard slap on the back – enabled Godai to spit out a "Yes!" . . . past the breath he hadn't been aware he was holding.

"Care to join us for one last round?" Akemi invited the Tour's latest star – and its newest employer.

"Well . . . I'll have to talk to my agent about making the financial arrangements. But it's probably too late for that today, anyway." Kyôko considered the loony lot gathered around her. The non-date had been okay – eventually, once it was clear that was how it was going to stay. But there had been some tense moments . . . and she was ready to loosen up – a bit. "So, if it's only one more round . . . okay, sure!"

And – with the brisk _**snap**_ of two fans, the electric _**crackle**_ of the portable cassette player winding up for another old folk-dance tune, the almost-simultaneous _**pop**_ of five fresh new cans of beer, the muffled _clink_ as they came together to a chorus of _**"Kanpai!"**_, and a hearty **"Waha-ha-ha-ha!"** – the party was on again.

*==*==*==*==*==*==*==*==*

But as Kyôko soon found out, these people seemed to have an elastic definition of "one more round".

"After all, if it's round, there's gotta be a circle involved," Ichinose pointed out with another of her horselaughs. "That's just plain logic – and geometry, too. Right, Kentarô?"

"Mom! . . ."

Kyôko winced along with the boy. _And she's supposed to be chaperoning me. Then again, she did save me from those horrible photographers_, she remembered. _Maybe I should let her loosen up in her own way._ She leaned over and said, "Here, Kentarô-_kun_, go get us three more cans of _tsubu-tsubu_ juice from the vending machine."

"Gee, thanks, Chigusa-_senshu_!" And he raced off.

"Taking Mitaka from me half the day, hiring Gofer-_kun_ away for your very own, and now you're putting in an early claim on the little guy?" Akemi jeered at Kyôko. "And buying **juice?** You're not just a man-hog, you're a spoilsport!"

"Well, I _**am**_ driving," she replied. _How could I think Mitaka-_senshu_ was interested in me when he has __**this**__ glamorous woman?_ Maybe she should tell Akemi what had happened earlier – before the news reached her anyway, as all news seemed to spread around the Tour: always fast and all too often inaccurate. _Then again_, she reflected, _this probably isn't the place or the time._

Meanwhile, Akemi had switched back to Ichinose's argument. "Y'know, old lady, you're right. And everyone knows if you go 'one more round' in a circle, you come right back to where you started."

"And since this party started with _**you**_ and your good fortune, young Dogwalker . . ." Apparently, Yotsuya hadn't given up quite yet on the chance for one more "one more round" out of Godai sometime between now and 11pm when the vending machines stopped selling alcohol.

"_**Get away from me!!**_ **No**, I tell you, I'm _**not**_ buying any more!" Godai backed away from the face so suddenly and uncomfortably close to his. "Geez, you move like a snake, Yotsuya-_san_, anybody ever tell you that?"

_Yotsuya __**is**__ rather like a snake, isn't he?_ Kyôko mused. _Not that he __**really**__ is one – at least I don't think so_, she corrected herself. _But he is an enigma. I wouldn't want to have to look into those eyes and try to guess which direction __**his**__ next serve was going. . . ._

And she could sympathize with this young man. He too had resisted having more than a conventional one beer for this "last round". _Maybe they really have spent all the money Mitaka-_senshu _paid him_, she thought, looking around at the number of empty cans and _sake_ cups littering the private party spot. _Or maybe he feels he's still on duty._

_Maybe I should ask him . . . find out a little more about my new employee._

"This is an, um, _**interesting**_ batch of people you got to help you watch over Sôichirô-_san_," she told the young man as she handed him one of the juice cans Kentarô-_kun_ had brought back to her. _Go__**dai**__-_san_, Go__**dai**__-_san_, __**not**__ a go__**fer**_, she reminded herself.

"I didn't get **them** – _**they**_ all came and got **me!**" he protested. "I don't even know how they did it!"

"Well, let's ask them, then." And she turned back to the others – who seemed to have suddenly put the party on hold for a moment to stare at them instead. "How did you all happen to come together here today, anyway?"

"An appro-propriate question!" cried a slightly tipsy Yotsuya-_san_. "How _**did**_ we all happen to come together here today, anyway? Everyone 'fess up now. You first, Godai-_kun_."

Godai wondered how this had turned from a party into one of those Alcoholics Anonymous meetings he'd heard about. _I just __**bet**__ these nuts would qualify._ But he didn't let the thought linger too long. Somehow, he just didn't care if the whole darn world knew his troubles. Not now that there was something on the other side of the scale.

"I'm here – with all of you guys – because I lost my job here." And he thought, in a daze of wondering realization: _And now – I have a much better one. . . ._

"I came here today looking for the man of my dreams – and as soon as he showed up, he ran right off again, and here I am left with you guys and a dog," was Akemi's acerbic reply. "Story of my life. But it was fun while it lasted. While the beer lasted, anyway. _***gulp***_ See y'around, Godai-_kun_." She stood up to go – leaning forward to do so.

Godai, flustered, turned his head quickly away. _I knew she was pretty darn forward – but why did she have to show __**that much**__ forward? And right in front of Chigusa-_senshu_, too. I can't let __**her**__ see me even __**looking**__ like I'm looking!_ But when he snuck a peek in the athlete's direction, she too had turned away from Akemi – and there was a touch of shy, embarrassed pink in her cheeks that reminded Godai of the warmth he felt in his own.

Of course, neither of their reasons applied to Yotsuya-_san_, who watched Akemi's rise with open and unblinking interest. "As for me," he pontificated, "it's my job – to be wherever I am most needed. . . ."

"And I got the best of both worlds today," Ichinose-_san_ crowed. "I got to do my job – watching over my charge here, protecting her from all the dangerous men around – _**and**_ have fun! Wasn't it a wonderful day, Kentarô?"

"**Mo****-omm!** You're embarrassing me again! . . ." Kentarô, who'd had his back to the bunch the whole time, occupied himself with petting Sôichirô-_san_ rather than facing his tipsy mother.

"Well, then, stop being embarrassed and show her that poster you wanted her to sign!" said his mother, reinforcing the advice with a light love-tap on the head.

"Oh, dear – I'm afraid I . . ." Kyôko felt for the boy, who was obviously not having as much fun as everyone else. Or any at all, for that matter.

"You can put the poster on my back while you sign it, if you like," Godai volunteered.

"But I don't have a pen. . . ."

"I do," said a quiet and previously unheard voice.

* * *

We can't change the scene **now**, can we? . . . we have to stay right here and see who this is!  
(Well, actually, if you want to see who it is, **you** have to change the **screen** . . . to the fourth and final chapter.)

_Still reading? Thanks a lot! Really! Don't forget to let us know what you think of what you've read so far. . . .  
And then please continue on to the typically atypical conclusion of -- **Take a *Bau*, Godai-Kun**. . . ._


	11. Episode 3, Part 4: Special Relativity

**Alternate Rumic World MI-1: Ace **_**no Ikkoku**_  
[an offshoot from the **Variations on a "Them"** thread of Furinkan's "Rumic World" discussion board]

by **RyogasGirl** & **jalp**

(Not that we _**own**_ these characters! They belong to Takahashi-_sensei_ and whoever she says.  
We've just enjoyed finding a few new ways for these people to make things _**interesting**_. . . .)

_

* * *

Imagine there's no Sôichirô teaching at her high school. Perhaps young Chigusa Kyôko isn't as distracted from her studies. Or maybe she puts her extra time and energy into her tennis._

_She was good in the RRW (Real Rumic World). In this ARW timeline, she's better. Good enough to shine in some local tournaments – to dream of qualifying for the professional tour._

_And then she catches the eye of a certain male pro. . . .  


* * *

  
_

**Episode #3****: Take a **_***Bau***_**, Godai-**_**Kun**_

"_Oh, dear – I'm afraid I . . ." Kyôko felt for the boy, who was obviously not having as much fun as everyone else. Or any at all, for that matter._

"_You can put the poster on my back while you sign it, if you like," Godai volunteered._

"_But I don't have a pen. . . ."_

"_I do," said a quiet and previously unheard voice._

**Chapter 4:** Special Relativity  
And into the little circle stepped a somewhat tall, rather gawky figure. His entirely un-sloshed speech sounded odd to the small group, and they took a moment trying to place him. Ichinose-_san_'s eyes were first to widen with the realization.

"It's that reporter for Mai-Asa Sports News," she whispered . . . ostensibly to Akemi, but not so quietly that everyone else couldn't hear, too.

"How long have you – did you take – are you going to –" Kyôko hastily put down her grape juice, picked up her lone can of beer (already empty) and stood it up a little farther away from her, then brushed herself off . . . trying to look as sportsmanlike as she could under the circumstances.

"I'm very sorry to startle you, Chigusa-_sama_, and I'm not – on duty – at the moment," he said, smiling and bowing. _A little __**too**__ low_, Kyôko thought. He seemed out of his element. _Come to think of it, as a reporter, he's probably more used to asking questions than answering them, or chatting socially._ "I spend so much of my time these days following the players around on the Tour that I don't get home to see my family as often as I'd like – I hardly get to see any families that aren't centered around the courts. It was nice to see an assembly of people just having fun. I've seen you all around the courts; I didn't know you were friends."

"Who'd choose these moochers as friends?!" groused Godai.

The reporter turned to face him. "Well, actually, the way you are tonight, you really look more like a family."

But Godai didn't want any connection with any of these people. _Except one._ "A pretty strange family."

"No, not strange in the least." Yotsuya spoke up, intrigued by the reporter's suggestion. "Yes . . . I can see us now. Ichinose-_san_ is our unwed aunt, Chigusa-_senshu_ here is our own devoted mother, and that makes Godai-_kun_. . . ." Yotsuya stood, pointing his closed fan at him with a dramatic pause.

Godai froze, dreading what would come next. _Aunt, mother, and . . ._

"Our rich, drunken uncle," Yotsuya announced.

"Kya!" Akemi squealed. She wanted in on this action. "Ooh, ooh, who am I?"

"You would be _oji-san_'s unfaithful girlfriend from the cabaret," Yotsuya said without much thought.

"Honey, I'll make you something good tonight. I got a lot of tips." Akemi winked at Godai, getting into her role.

But he shrugged her off, standing to glare at Yotsuya. "Now, look! How dare you stain my innocent reputation by saying I'm the kind of man who would go to a cabaret to get a girlfriend? And anyway, I'm not drunk!"

"How can you deny it, Godai-_kun_, with the evidence here all around you?" Yotsuya kicked aside a bottle or two as if to demonstrate the hard reality underlying his whimsical explanation.

"I am _**not**_ drunk!! Besides, you drank most of it," Godai objected.

"Indeed, I did drink some of it, _oji-san_, but who is it who procured said beverages? And gave it to us children, too? Ah . . ." Yotsuya went to Kyôko in feigned anguish. By now, Akemi and Ichinose were laughing riotously at the scene unfolding before them. "Please forgive _oji-san_; he didn't know what he was doing."

"Get away from her, you lunatic!" Godai shouted.

"Okay, okay, that's enough," Kyôko finally interjected.

"And **that's** _**just**_ what a mother _**would**_ say," Ichinose beamed, pointing a fan at her.

Kyôko sighed and turned to the reporter. "I'm sorry, I just don't know if I'd call this a family."

"Well, but maybe that's because there isn't a name yet to explain why you're together." After the very strange scene that had just unfolded before him, the reporter seemed to feel more comfortable around the group.

"Oi, reporter-_kun_," Akemi began, shoving a bottle into his hand. "If you're going to stay here, you've got to drink like the rest of us."

"Oh, uh, thank you." He took it reluctantly, but graciously, as seemed to be his nature. "Chigusa-_sama_, this is all centered around you, in a way – and **you** haven't answered the question yet. If you don't mind me asking, why do you think you're here today?"

They all turned to face her – and normally, she would have been self-conscious and pulled back from answering. But somehow, not now – not here – not with this admittedly loony batch of people. Somehow, they _**were**_ like a family . . . the kind that you stuck with, and _**were**_ stuck with, through thick or thin . . . for better or for worse. And because they were family, she was able to talk out her feelings – and her answer.

"Of course, I'm here at the tennis club because I'm a tennis pro. But why do I play tennis? Now, that's a more interesting question." She paused, and slowly smiled as she looked up. "My late grandfather was the one who believed in me – even when I didn't myself, sometimes. He was my first coach. I think he could have been a professional himself, but he always said he wasn't quite good enough – and he wasn't nearly dedicated enough."

Everyone was listening. But Godai hung on her every word, committing every syllable to memory. _When will I ever have another chance to hear Chigusa-_senshu_ speak so openly?_ He sensed it: this was her heart . . . the heart he'd been so desperate to find.

"He told me I had the skill, and I could find the dedication . . . if I found the joy in the game. The little perfect moments you get now and again. The lob you hit just high enough to get by your opponent at the net. Hitting a cross-court volley at just the right angle. Which was the only reason I ever paid attention to geometry lessons," she chuckled.

"His best stroke was his big serve, so all his stories of ideal moments were about serves he'd gotten in to beat better opponents. He used to say that, if he ever hit the absolute perfect serve, he'd know it was going to be a winner even before the racket actually hit the ball. That was what he lived for on the court – the search for that perfect moment. And, although my style of playing isn't as big as his, I think I play to continue his search for that moment, and honor it . . . the 'Ace _no ikkoku_', he called it."

There was a moment or two of silence, gently interrupted by a respectfully stifled belch. "Thank you very much, Chigusa-_sama_," the reporter said, in that quiet voice that seemed to suit him. "That was beautiful. I don't think I could write anything that beautiful about it, and I won't try. I won't tell anybody else about it. A story like that," he said, standing up and smiling a bit more boldly – first at her, and then at everyone – "should be kept . . . in the family, don't you think?"

Nods went around the circle. Then they were all on their feet as Yotsuya-_san_ intoned: "And so, let us draw the curtain on this first Ace _no Ikkoku_ Family Reunion. . . ." And everyone shared a simple _ippon-jime_ in agreement, officially closing the party.

As they turned to head off their separate ways, Kyôko reached toward Godai-_san_ to get the leash back from him.

"Sôichirô-_san_. . . ." She casually called him to her.

_***Bau*!**_ came the expected response from her canine companion. But she turned in stunned surmise when a softer human voice also answered: "Yes?"

Everyone else had spun around, too . . . to see the reporter, as startled as anyone, looking back at her in surprise.

"What's wrong? Did I do something?" He felt uncomfortable with so many eyes trained on him, for no apparent reason.

"Your name is Sôichirô?" Kyôko's heart felt like it still hadn't started beating again.

"Sôichirô Otonashi, reporter and columnist for the Mai-Asa Sports News. Currently on long-term assignment to cover Japanese professional tennis." He started to reach, reflexively, for a business card from the case in his shirt pocket, then caught himself, smiled, and looked down at his feet for a moment. "You called my name, so I thought you knew me. Who were you calling?" He was now completely lost.

"Oh . . ." Kyôko blushed when she thought of telling him who she was really talking to. _Oh, well, too late now._ "I was calling my dog."

_***Bau*!**_ Right on cue, Sôichirô-_san_ barked in agreement. Otonashi-_san_, feeling a bit awkward at having answered a call meant for a dog, knelt down and patted him on the head.

"Well . . ." he chuckled, trying to think of what to say. "It's a strange name for a dog."

"It was –" Kyôko suddenly became thoughtful. "It was my grandfather's name."

Up to then, Godai had been hoping the reporter would just go home. But it was too late for that to help him now. Those few words had cut him more deeply than any of the jibes from the party. _**No!**__ This isn't fair!_ he raged and moaned. _**I**__ was supposed to be the one who found out what was in Kyôko-_san_'s heart._ (No lying to himself and saying just "Chigusa-_senshu_" now.) _**I**__ asked her about the dog's name first. Okay, so it was just this afternoon, but still_ . . . he was being left in the dust. He felt it now for the first time. _Mitaka's her tennis partner, this Otonashi guy got her to open up about her grandfather and her dog's name in two seconds flat, and me – I'm a dogwalker._

_Yeah, what a great position I'm in. . . ._

The reporter wasn't thrilled about his position at the moment, either. _You_ baka! _You just insulted this beautiful young woman's dog – and her grandfather!_ his internal editor yelled at him. _So say something nice._ "You know, I never really liked the name Sôichirô before," Otonashi-_san_ said quickly, "but I think that I like it a bit better now." When he finally dared to look up, he breathed an inner sigh of relief to see she was smiling now. _Good. I'm forgiven._

But Godai had been watching her face the whole time, in growing dismay. _First he's shy, sweet, and surprising – and now he's smooth and clever? Great. Make her forget I'm even here, why don't you?_ He shook his head, hoping to clear it of some of the gloom gathering in it. _Him and Mitaka, . . . it's like they're teaming up to crowd me out of the picture. And any flaw I could ever find in either of those guys is just going to put her closer to the other one. What can __**I**__ possibly do?_

"I guess I'd better get going." Otonashi-_san_ stood up, wanting to leave the situation before he put his foot in his mouth again.

"Oh, me too – I have practice in the morning!" Kyôko cried, finally realizing how late it had become.

"Let me walk you to your car," Otonashi-_san_ offered.

"Okay, sure." Kyôko smiled as she got herself up off the ground finally.

_I'm being rude._ "I should come too," Godai insisted. Sôichirô-_san_ _***Bau***_-ed in agreement.

"Alright, looks like he'll have it no other way." Kyôko chuckled, handing the leash to Godai. "You have the reins."

And for a fleeting moment, Godai remembered what she'd asked him to do – and what he'd promised. _"Would you be that someone for me?" "S-sure . . . I-I'd be delighted to help . . . honored!"_

**That** was his answer. _I can be someone she relies on – someone she __**can**__ rely on. Someone who's earned her respect by showing her he's worthy of her trust. I can do my best to help her do __**her**__ best. And if right now, that means I'm just the dogwalker . . ._

Sôichirô-_san_ snapped him out of his reverie with a tug and a _***Bau*!**_ _Oh – right._

"I'll take it."

But as he moved to catch up with his new boss and the reporter walking beside her, he could hear the unholy trio behind him. Apparently they weren't about to leave bad enough alone just yet.

He could practically see Yotsuya nudging Ichinose and saying: "Will you look at that! There goes _oji-san_ again, following another unsuspecting young woman. . . ."

"Yes, and this time he's dragging a dog around with him, too, hoping to get some sympathy! **Waha-ha-ha!**"

"Aren't you guys being a little rough on Godai-_san_?" Otonashi finally interjected.

But the support only depressed the younger man further. _Perfect__ – now he's sticking up for me_. "It's fine, really," he lied.

Akemi saw Godai's face redden again, started to snicker, and moved in for one more jab. Loud and clear, she said: "**We're sorry, **_**o-tô-san**_**!**"

All three people in the leading group jerked to an awkward stop – just short of the parking lot. Sôichirô-_san_ whined once in puzzlement, then sat down and patiently scratched his ear.

Godai had long since used up all his patience. _I'll be damned if he's going to be the father!_ he bristled. _Because if __**he's**__ the father –_

"Oho – if you're the father . . ." Yotsuya murmured to the seemingly oblivious back of the reporter.

"And you're the mother . . ." Ichinose stood behind a now quivering Chigusa-_senshu_.

"Then that makes _**you**_ two —" they said together . . . but the matron couldn't finish the sentence, and burst out with her loudest guffaws of the evening.

"Uncle Gofer, are you _**her**_ brother or _**his**_?" Akemi reached out as if to take his arm again.

Godai pulled away and yelled at her: "**Now, cut that out!**" At least he started to yell it —

Until he was drowned out. **"*****BEHAVE* YOURSELVES, **_***ALL* OF YOU!!**_**"** Kyôko shouted at the top of her lungs.

"**Yes, Mother!**" came the immediate reply in chorus.

And as Godai and he helped his namesake into her car, the new "father" thought to himself: _You were right, young man. It's just impossible to imagine anyone choosing those people as their circle of friends. They could wear out their welcome with anybody. In fact, they could wear anybody out, period. I know __**I'm**__ tired._

He sighed – then smiled softly again. _No, they can't be just friends. They __**have**__ to be a family. . . ._

* * *

_We hope you enjoyed this episode -- first written, but with two prequels in the works. And then -- how many episodes are yet to come? Perhaps not even Takahashi-_sensei_ herself knows. But if you'd like to see more . . . please let us hear from you. And once more -- thanks for reading!_


End file.
